


A Vow of Silence

by CassadyFlies



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brain Damage, Buddhism, Chan, Chronic Illness, Deaf, Deaf Character, Disability, Disabled Character, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Monastery, Physical Disability, Sad, zen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:23:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassadyFlies/pseuds/CassadyFlies
Summary: When Shion begins to lose his hearing, he sends Nezumi a letter asking him to return. Three weeks later, Nezumi appears at his work in Buddhist clothing, and brings Shion along to his monastery in the woods. There, Shion's health begins to further deteriorate, while Nezumi works towards becoming a Zen monk.True silence presses against your ears. With no echo to gauge the size of the space you sit in, you feel claustrophobic even in great space, even with your eyes open. Something about the lack of sound tells your brain instinctively that you are in a coffin. That you are being buried alive.





	1. The sound of one hand

True silence presses against your ears. With no echo to gauge the size of the space you sit in, you feel claustrophobic even in great space, even with your eyes open. Something about the lack of sound tells your brain instinctively that you are in a coffin. That you are being buried alive.

The first time Shion experienced true silence it was with a rush of terror, and he sat up in bed instantly in a cold sweat. The quiet in his ears had woven into his nightmares, making him feel as if Death was nibbling at his toes, cold and omnipresent. He gasped, and the sound of his own breath restored his sanity. Sighing, he flipped on the lamp on his bedside table and walked into the kitchen for a drink of water.

His footsteps sounded muffled as he walked across the cold linoleum. Almost like walking on carpet. Curious, he stomped his feet a few times, and shrugged. It was probably nothing. He selected a glass from the cupboard and turned on the water. It sounded odd. Like television static.

Shion yawned, trying to pop his ears. Maybe he was getting a cold or something. He should drink hot water instead.

He poured the water from the glass into a mug and put it in the microwave. The beeps sounded dulled. Like a hand was covering the speaker.

“Hello?” Shion said to test his hearing. His voice sounded fine to his ears. “I must be imagining things.”

He drank the hot water and went back to bed, not worried in the slightest.

It wasn’t until the next day that he noticed something was really wrong. He was having trouble understanding the people at his work.

“Shion… going… the meeting?” a young woman named Rei asked.

Shion blinked. “Am I going to the meeting?” he asked to confirm.

“Yeah.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded. “Isn’t it after lunch?”

“Yes… wanted… sure,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” He squinted at her as if it were his eyes that had the problem.

“I just wanted to make sure.” He read her lips.

Maybe he should go to the doctor. “I’ll be there.” Shaken, he walked back to his office and took his seat. He hesitated before dialing the doctor’s number on his wristband. Maybe he was just imagining things. He shook his head as the line rang. No, better be safe than sorry.

“Hello, Doctor Yama… fice, how may I… your call?”

Alright, there was definitely something wrong. “Hi, I need to make an appointment.”

“Yes, sir, and when… that?”

Shion surmised what she meant to say. “As soon as possible. Today if he can.”

“And what is… this appointment?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What is… this appointment?”

“I… um… I’m having trouble with my hearing, could you speak up please?”

“What is the purpose of this appointment?”

“Oh.” Shion nodded. Of course that’s what she meant to say. “Um, my hearing. It’s not working properly.”

“The earliest I can get you in is today at six, does that work for you?” She spoke slowly and clearly.

“Yes, thank you.”

“See you soon.”

They hung up.

Shion relaxed back into his chair, nervous. What was going on? He’d never had issues with his hearing before, this was entirely new. He drummed his fingers against the creamy, wooden edge of his desk, trying to think of what the cause might be. He hadn’t listened to any loud music recently. He wasn’t feeling ill. He’d taken no blows to the head or anything, so what was happening?

Worrying about it wasn’t helpful. He’d done all he could do for the moment in making the doctor’s appointment, he’d just have to wait and see what Doctor Yamaguchi said.

He ate lunch at his desk that day, finding the muffled chattering of his employees and coworkers to be frustrating and obnoxious. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, and trying to parse together meaning from their staccato sentences was giving him a pounding headache. He took an aspirin and ate his sandwich in solitude.

He got no benefit out of the meeting that day. The presenter was a quiet young girl, and Shion understood virtually none of what was said. After her presentation, he meekly walked forward and requested the slideshow be sent to his mailbox. He’d study up on the information once his hearing was fixed.

The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough. The moment the clock struck five he was out of his chair and practically sprinting out the door. Just time to head home and change out of his tie and blazer before heading to the Doctor’s office.

He arrived back home to find the silence almost unbearable. He spoke aloud to himself as he washed his face and changed clothes just to keep from tearing his hair out.

“I’m sure all it will take is an antibiotic. This is probably the result of going swimming in the creek last weekend. Yes, that’s it. I’m sure of it. I’ll have to be more careful next time to prevent too much water going in my ears. This is probably a mild inner-ear infection, and I just didn’t notice it since there’s no pain. I’ll tell the doctor that, I’m sure he’ll agree.”

He took a self-driving vehicle to the hospital, where dozens of sick and injured people were awaiting treatment.

Shion sat carefully away from the sickest ones and refrained from touching anything. If his immune system was compromised by an infection, then it was best not to come in contact with any other type of pathogen.

It was nearly thirty minutes of anxious silence before the nurse called his name. He didn’t hear her at first, but she kindly came over and tapped him on the shoulder to let him know it was time to head back.

They took his temperature and weight simultaneously, jotting everything down on a large clipboard as was standard.

“You should eat more,” quipped the nurse.

Shion pretended not to hear her.

She showed him to a room with pictures of rainbows and ladybugs on the walls. He sat on the patient’s table and waited for the doctor to arrive.

The silence in the little check-up room was even worse than the silence in his house. At least his house was large and resonate, allowing for some movement of noise. This place was small and cramped, full of objects and furniture that absorbed all the sounds Shion’s dulled ears would otherwise have been able to pick up.

The doctor arrived shortly. “Hello, Shion! I hear you’re having trouble hearing.” He spoke loudly.

“Yes,” Shion agreed. “I think I might have an inner ear infection.”

“Are you experiencing any pain?” the doctor asked, facing Shion so his lips could be read.

“No,” Shion frowned. “And I’m not sure why. I’m sure this is a result of my swimming in the creek down south of town. The water there isn’t exactly purified.”

“Well, let me have a look.” The doctor took out one of those ear-inspection tools and peered into Shion’s ears. “I don’t see anything out here, but you’re right, it could be a problem in the inner ear. I’ll have to run some tests, and let’s do a little bloodwork while you’re here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Shion smiled, happy to be in safe hands. The doctor did a cursory inspection of Shion’s throat and eyes before sending him out into the hall and around a corner to the bloodwork station. “If nothing comes back, and if the issue doesn’t resolve itself, I’ll refer you to an audiologist. Sound good?”

“Sounds muffled,” Shion joked, feeling better. “But good.”

Doctor Yamaguchi laughed. “Alright, Shion. Hope I don’t see you soon.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Shion grinned, sitting down in the chair provided for patients getting blood drawn.

A nurse arrived a moment later to prick him with a needle. Blood instantly shot out into a tube, filling it up and making Shion feel a little dizzy. He looked away as she removed the needle and put a bandage on his arm.

“See… soon.” She waved.

Shion nodded, thanked her, and left.

It was another two days before he got a call from the doctor’s office. In that time, Shion’s hearing had only gotten worse. When his wristband finally rang, he wouldn’t have noticed but for the vibrations.

“Everything… clear. No… worry. We’ll… an audiologist… you.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you. Could you send it in an email?”

“Sure.”

He received an email ten minutes later.

_ Your bloodwork came back clear, no reason to worry. We’ll refer you to an audiologist, her number and website are attached below. Have a nice day. _

Shion clicked on the link to a website that proclaimed in bold italics: hear clearer, live better. Rolling his eyes, he searched out their email and typed up a draft.

_ Hello, I was referred to you by Doctor Yamaguchi. My name is Shion and I’ve recently had some trouble with my hearing. I was hoping to come in for an appointment as soon as possible, so if you have any openings, let me know what dates. Thank you for your time. _

He reread the email several times before squeezing his eyes shut and hitting send. It would never sound perfect, better just to send it quickly.

They responded in about three hours.

_ Shion, _

_ Thank you for contacting us, we are currently accepting new patients. Our next available appointment is at 3 o'clock on Tuesday, does this work for you? _

_ -Doctor Saitou _

Shion replied as soon as he finished reading.

_ That works perfectly. See you then. _

Perfect! Maybe soon he’d have his answer. Of course, it was scary to be going to an audiologist. That meant there really was something wrong with his ears, not just a mild infection as he’d hoped. It also did not bode well that his hearing was only getting worse. Tuesday couldn’t come soon enough.

In the meantime, Shion went to visit his mother. She lived all the way across the city in the remains of old North Block, where suburban sprawl was now taking over, and where she had opened a new location for her bakery.

Shion arrived on Monday after work when he knew she would be there.

“Shion! Good… you!” Karan exclaimed.

“Hi mom. Can we sit for a second?” He had yet to tell her about his hearing problems, and he was a bit nervous about how the exchange would go.

“Sure, is… wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” he said as they found a table in the restaurant portion of the bakery. “I’ve been having trouble with my hearing, I’m going to see an audiologist tomorrow.”

“An audiologist?” Karan asked, surprise on her face. “Is...serious?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know anything. All I know is that everything sounds muffled, and it’s been getting worse over the past couple days.”

“You… me…” Karan said.

Shion squinted at her lips. “What did you say?”

“I said you… me fine.”

“I hear you fine?” Shion guessed.

“Yes, but… nevermind.”

Shion shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“Are you… it’s… just… thing?”

Shion sighed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t hear you.”

“Are you sure it’s not just an inner ear infection or something?” She spoke up.

Shion nodded. “The doctor says it’s not. But that’s what I thought too. So I’ll be going to a specialist to see what she thinks.”

“Well, good luck.” Karan smiled sadly. “I hope… figure… can… it.”

Shion shook his head.

Karan held up a finger and darted off to return with a piece of paper and a pencil. She wrote,  _ I hope they can figure out what’s wrong soon so they can fix it! _

“Me too.” Shion laughed with chagrin at the paper. “Because writing is rather an inefficient form of communication.”

_ It will all work out, I’m sure of it.  _ Karan wrote.

“Yeah. I hope so.” Shion smiled. “Anyway. It was good to see you, Mom, but I have some work to attend to.”

_ Visit again soon!  _ Karan wrote.

“Definitely. I’ll let you know how the appointment goes.”

_ Please do! _

Shion waved, and Karan waved back, and he left the little shop.

He slept well that night, confident in his mother’s words that everything would be alright.

The next day, he was sat in a booth with headphones on. On the other side of the wall, a woman was reading words out into a microphone.

“Cowboy, airplane, hotdog.”

Shion repeated the words.

“A...el, fo..t, grammar.”

Shion repeated what he could hear.

“D…uck, fireplace, burger.”

He tried his best.

“Alright, Shion,” she said loudly. “Come on out.”

He exited the booth as she printed out a piece of paper with a graph on it. “So,” she said clearly and loudly. “This is your audiogram.” She pointed at the paper she held. “This line right here-” She pointed again. “This is your hearing level. This line right here-” She pointed at a line higher up on the graph. “This is normal. You fall below normal range. You say it’s been getting worse?”

“Much worse,” Shion told her nervously.

“I want you to come back and see me in a week.” She looked directly at him so he could read her lips. “Understand?”

“Yes.”

“In the meantime, I can fit you with adjustable hearing aids so that you can modulate the sound level to your liking.”

“Hearing aids?” Shion asked incredulously. “But isn’t there something you can do? Medication or something?”

She hesitated. “I’m afraid this is our best option right now while we look into the cause of your sudden hearing loss.”

Shion shook his head. “I’m not wearing hearing aids.”

“I can’t force you.”

Shion nodded. “I’ll just take off work for a week. If it gets better I’ll call you. If not, I’ll see you in a week.”

“That’s fine.” She jotted something down on her notes. “Same time same day?”

“Sounds good,” Shion agreed. He stood and shook her hand before exiting the room.

He brooded to himself as he waited for a car home. Hearing aids? That was ridiculous. He didn’t need hearing aids. He was fine. He had some sort of curable problem that would be fixed shortly by a doctor. He didn’t need hearing aids.

His driverless car came down the street and pulled up in front of him. He took it home and called into work. He had plenty of vacation time saved up, as well as sick days. It would be no problem to take off for a week. He could get his house cleaned. He could go hiking in nature. He could do plenty of productive things that he’d been putting off.

Shion didn’t do any of this, however. The moment he got home he flopped down on the couch and put on the TV with subtitles, crashing into a depression.

His hands felt heavy. His whole body felt heavy. Like where the iron in his blood was meant to be, there was pure lead instead. Weighty. He sighed long and low, letting his lungs deflate. This was so stupid. There was nothing wrong with him. That would be absurd. He hadn’t even done anything. For something to be wrong with him he must have to do something, right? He racked his brain, and was unable to come up with a single thing he’d done that could lead to this karmic shakeup.

He fell asleep on the couch that day, and indeed most days after. By the time Tuesday rolled back around, he’d barely moved a muscle. In fact, his muscles felt considerably weakened. He dropped a glass of water when he tried to pick it up for a drink.

He put himself together as best he could and stepped outside for the first time in a week to head to the audiologist.

His stomach dropped. It was dead silent. He couldn’t hear the cars, the birds, the people- nothing.

“Hello?” he tested. Even his own voice sounded deadened to his ears. “Shit.” He clambered weakly into a car and took off for the audiologists, not expecting anything good.

Indeed, his audiogram had dropped considerably since the last time.

_ I’m referring you to a neurologist,  _ the audiologist wrote.  _ In the meantime, please consider wearing hearing aids. I think they will benefit you. _

Holding back frustrated tears, Shion nodded.

The audiologist looked at him compassionately.  _ Going deaf in this day and age isn’t the end of the world. There are plenty options and opportunities. _

“Deaf?” Shion asked, stunned by the word. “I’m not going deaf.”

The audiologist nodded.  _ It can be hard to accept. _

“No,” Shion insisted. “I’m not going deaf. I’ll go to the neurologist. They’ll fix this.”

_ I’ll send you an email with his  information. Let’s go fit you for hearing aids. _

The hearing aids helped. The sound quality was off, it sounded a bit tinny, and words were distorted, but otherwise it was fine.

He was relieved.

“I should have taken your advice last week,” he told the audiologist.

“It’s hard for people to accept,” she said diplomatically. “How do those feel?”

“Fine. My ears feel a bit heavy.”

“You’ll get used to it.” She smiled. “Go see the neurologist, and give me another call if things go downhill or you need a tune up on those.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Shion shook her hand and left.

Making an appointment with the neurologist was difficult. It took two weeks to get an appointment. In the meantime, Shion was back at work with hearing aids on. They were relatively small, he’d hoped nobody would notice them. But notice they did.

“Hey, you got hearing aids.”

“Whoa, when did those happen?”

“Are you deaf now or something?”

“Can you hear me okay?”

It was embarrassing.

The appointment with the neurologist couldn’t come soon enough. They got him in for a MRI scan, and inspected his brain. It was another two weeks before the results were in. During this time, Shion had to go back to the audiologist twice for a tune up. His hearing was getting worse.

The neurologist had some printed pictures from his scan. He pointed at part of the image. “So here’s where the problem lies. There’s sensorineural damage to your brain. I want to do a couple basic tests while you’re here, just to see if we can catch the reason for the issue.”

“So how do you fix sensorineural damage?” Shion asked.

The doctor was quiet for a long moment. “I’m afraid you don’t.” He looked at Shion seriously. “If we act now, we may be able to prevent further deterioration, but there’s no going back on brain damage. What’s done is done.”

Shion’s world imploded. “But…” He swallowed, but couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of choking. “But…”

“I can give you a minute.” The doctor stood.

“No.” Shion shot up from his seat. “Run your tests. Let’s fix this.”

The doctor hesitated, and nodded. “I’ll do what I can.” He ran his fingers down both sides of Shion’s face. “Does this feel the same?”

“Yes.”

“Stand up and close your eyes. Try to balance as long as you can.”

Shion stood and did as he was told. He had no issue.

“Alright, now squeeze my hands.” The doctor held out his hands.

Shion squeezed them.

“Harder.”

“This is as hard as I can.” Shion frowned. “Why?”

“Have you been dropping things more often lately?”

“No.” Shion tried to remember. “Oh. I dropped a cup the other day.”

“I see.”

“Is that bad?”

“It could be nothing. We’ll keep an eye on it. Your grip is a little weak on the right side, that’s all.” The doctor jotted down some notes. “Well, Shion. We’re all done for today. You can sign out up front.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Shion shook his hand and left, not at all relieved of his anxiety.

He made his way up to the front desk and took a pen from the cup to sign his name. He dropped it. Momentary fear gripped his heart.  _ I’m sure it’s nothing,  _ he thought to himself. He picked the pen back up and signed his name.

Back home, he turned on the TV extra loud and sat down with a beer. Things were still highly confusing, and answers seemed to be nowhere in sight. Oh well. Maybe this would all blow over eventually.


	2. Nothing but complain

It’s a surreal thing to lose control of one’s body. Like being a passenger in an airplane headed sharply downwards, only able to look on out the windows of your own eyes as everything crashes and burns.

That’s how Shion felt when he sat at work one afternoon, trying to type on his computer. The keys were escaping his fingers, and the letters being printed across the screen were little more than gibberish. A horrible, foreboding feeling crept up his spine, and he immediately emailed his neurologist.

Painstakingly, he typed out the letters.

_ Hello, I’d like to make an appointment with Doctor Itou as soon as he is available. Thank you. _

The Doctor’s office responded an hour later, and they booked an appointment for the next day.

He had a hard time typing the address into the self-driving car that took him to the Doctor’s office. His fingers kept slipping.

“Well, Shion, I’m concerned about your myelin sheaths to put it bluntly. Myelin sheaths are the coating around every neuron that allows them to communicate with each other. So there’s nothing physically wrong with your ears or hands, it’s all happening inside your brain, where the neurons are firing.”

“You’re saying it’s all in my head.”

“Yes and no. You’re not making it up, it’s all a very real condition. Don’t worry, you’re not crazy. But it is a physical problem inside your brain.”

“Why is this happening?” Shion wrung his disabled hands anxiously. The left one was still stronger than the right one, but both were going downhill.

“That’s what I don’t know. I’m going to run some tests for MS and other myelin attacking diseases, but I’ve never heard of a myelin disease that causes sudden hearing loss.” The doctor set down his clipboard. “I’m going to refer you to a specialist.”

“Another specialist.” Shion sighed. “Alright. Sounds good.”

The doctor wrote down the name and email address of the new doctor. “She’s very good. She specializes in myelin attacking diseases.”

Everyone was supposedly “very good,” but nobody seemed to have the answers. Shion just wanted this ordeal to be over.

When he finally got in to the neuropathologist, his hearing was going away even with the hearing aids. He stayed up all night the night before his appointment, crying and cursing the universe.

The neuropathologist was an austere woman of about forty, with her hair in a tight bun and a silver pen that hovered perpetually over her clipboard.

_ There’s no saying what this is, _ she wrote in crisp, clean little letters. _ It could very well be that you are the first case in history. If so, there’s nothing I can do. _

Shion’s voice shook as he replied. “But… what’s going to happen to me?”

_ I don’t know. _

Shion felt sick. He leaned against the wall on the patient’s table and swallowed roughly. “I don’t want to die.” This was the first time he’d considered that as a possibility. Oh god, he needed to go see his mother. He needed to write to Nezumi. He needed to… something. “Why can’t anyone help me?!” He cried, slamming his fist into the wall.

The doctor sniffed at him.  _ Please don’t hit my wall. _

“Ahhhh!” Shion screamed as loudly as he could. “I hate this! I should just kill myself!” He realized his mistake as soon as he said it.

The doctor was standing up.  _ Are you planning on killing yourself? _

“No.” Shion said smally. “I’m not going to. I’m just talking.”

_ Okay. Please see yourself out, there’s nothing else we need to discuss today. _

He stood and shuffled out the door, rage still tearing through his bones.

Back home, he flopped down in bed and screamed. He didn’t worry about his neighbors hearing, he didn’t worry about anything but himself. He wanted to die. He wanted to end this horrible fate that had befallen him.

It was an hour before he managed to stop crying. He sat up in bed and looked over at the shelf where Hamlet was perched. “Will you send a message for me?” he asked.

The mouse chirped, and Shion didn’t hear it.

He cut a small strip of paper and wrote on it a short message.

_ Come home. Please hurry. -Shion _

He shuffled off to the bathroom to find a pill capsule, which he emptied and refilled with the rolled up piece of paper, just like they had done three years ago.

“Can you do it, Hamlet?” Shion asked, handing him the message. “Take this to Nezumi.”

The little mouse hopped off the shelf onto the bed, then to the floor, and scurried off.

Shion had no idea of it would work, if Nezumi would ever get the letter. But it was worth a try. He flopped down on the couch and switched on the TV. “Please, if there is a God, please don’t do this to me.”

He fell asleep that night in front of the TV and woke up at six in the morning to an infomercial about spoons. He went to work with deep circles under his eyes.

The days were gray and dull. Shion was losing hope. His right hand kept dropping everything it picked up, and his hearing was slowly deteriorating to nothing. He stopped talking to himself aloud, not wanting to hear the muted sound of his own voice. Soon, even the hearing aids weren’t working. He took them off and embraced the silence.

_ Do you want me to take notes for you at the meeting today?  _ A young woman whom he employed wrote to him. The entire office had gotten used to writing him messages, and hardly anyone tried to communicate with him through anything but email anymore. It was lonely.

“Yes, thank you.” Shion nodded. He couldn’t hear his own voice anymore, but he continued to speak aloud instead of writing back. His voice still worked perfectly fine, but his hands struggled to pen letters.

It had been three weeks since he’d sent the message to Nezumi, and still there was no reply. Shion should have figured as much. It’s not like Hamlet would be able to find him.

He sat at his desk, painstakingly typing out a memo with his left hand. Soon he’d have to use a dictaphone. His hands were deteriorating.

_ The remaining pieces of the wall at South block are to be taken down on Thursday. Some are to be sold at auction, while others are to be donated directly to museums. For the auction, I’d like ten- _

The same young woman walked in with a note.  _ There’s a visitor for you. _

Shion nodded. “Send them in.”

A moment later, Shion’s lungs collapsed.

Nezumi stood in a dirty, black gi with a rakusu hanging over his chest. His hair was tied up over his ears, braided down the sides. He wore sandals tied around his ankles with fraying ribbon, and he smiled with a kind of quiet wisdom he’d never had when he was sixteen. “Hello.” Shion read his lips. “How are you?”

Shion couldn’t move, the shock of what he was seeing rooted him to his chair. “Nezumi…” He needed to explain everything. He needed to tell him what was happening, break the news quickly and frankly. He couldn’t speak.

Nezumi said something Shion couldn’t understand.

“I…” Shion tried. “I’m…”

Nezumi said something else.

Shion shook his head. “Nezumi, I…” It was then that he realized he’d never said the word before. “I’m deaf.”

It took a moment before his words seemed to register with Nezumi. The quiet smile on Nezumi’s lips disappeared. “You’re deaf?” Shion read his lips.

Shion nodded, and looked away, inexplicably ashamed of himself.

Nezumi strode forward and reached across the table to take Shion’s hand.

Shion looked up.

“How do I talk to you?” Nezumi asked, speaking slowly and clearly.

Shion passed him a piece of paper and a pen. “This is how I communicate now.”

Nezumi sat down in a chair on the other side of Shion’s desk.  _ How did this happen? _

Shion shrugged. “The doctors think it’s a problem in my brain. It also causes my hands to be weak. I’m going downhill.”

Nezumi hesitated.  _ When will it stop getting worse? _

Shion shook his head. “I don’t know if it will.”

_ What are they doing to treat you? _

“Nothing.”

Nezumi sat back in the chair, hands folded over his stomach. He nodded slowly.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Shion asked, inspecting Nezumi’s strange attire.

Nezumi grinned.  _ I’m practicing at a Zen monastery. _

“You’re joking.” Shion gaped at him. “You?”

_ I know. Funny, right? _

“You’re living at a monastery?”

Nezumi nodded.

“Practicing Zen Buddhism?”

Nezumi nodded again.

“What do you do there?”

_ I work, meditate, eat, and sleep. _

“That’s insane. You’ve gone crazy.”

_ Maybe. But I’m happy. _

Shion was quiet for a long moment. “Take me with you.”

_ No. You need to stay where there’s doctors. _

“Screw the doctors, I’m going to die anyway.”

_ You don’t know that. _

“Everybody dies.”

Nezumi fell still, then nodded.

“So I can come with you?”

_ No. You need to stay here. Get medical help. _

“I’ll kill myself.”

_ That’s no way to get what you want.  _ Nezumi looked at him reprimandingly.  _ I’ll stay here with you while you recover. _

“Or die.”

_ Or die. _

Shion scowled. “I don’t want to wait in a hospital. I want to experience life.”

_ Inside a Zen monastery? _

“Don’t you want me to escape Samsara?”

Nezumi rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you believe in all that now?” Shion taunted him. “The cycle of rebirth?”

Nezumi shrugged.  _ It’s all purely conceptual. _

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

_ It means it’s easy to find if you know where it is. _

“What is?”

_ The moon. It’s in the sky, but only if you look up. _

“You are crazy.”

Nezumi grinned.  _ You’re not coming to the monastery. _

“You’re not going to stay with me while I die.”

_ So why did you send me a message?  _ Nezumi challenged.  _ Seems like that’s what you want. _

“I wanted to see you again. To spend some time with you, maybe go on an adventure or two before I die. Now I feel I’m hearing the call to adventure, and you’re refusing me.”

_ That’s how the Hero’s Journey goes. _

“So eventually you’ll say yes?”

Nezumi shrugged.  _ You seem to have accepted your own death rather quickly. Is there any evidence you’ll die? _

“If this doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill myself. I’m not going to live if I can’t type, hear, or pick things up.”

_ Your hands are that bad? _

“Yes.” Shion held up his hands and squeezed them a few times. They were getting worse. “I can’t grip things, and my fine motor skills are going away.”

_ I want to see your place. _

Shion nodded. “I think I’ll take off work early. Let’s go.” He sent a quick email letting the appropriate people know that he was leaving, and set off.

They took a car home and didn’t speak along the way. Shion wasn’t sure if it was the communication barrier, or if they really just had nothing to say to each other. It was strange after three years to suddenly be in each other’s presence again. Surreal.

“This is where I live,” Shion said as they got out at his apartment building.

Nezumi just nodded. They didn’t have any paper.

“On the top floor. There’s an elevator.” He showed him where it was, and they took off for the seventh and top floor of the building.

They entered Shion’s apartment and found a notepad and pencil for Nezumi.

_ Nice place. You must do well. _

“Yeah. Not bad.” Shion looked around at his apartment. It was a tidy one bedroom with a large kitchen and living room.

_ Show me your bed. _

“Isn’t that a little forward for a monk?” Shion asked with a laugh, surprised and a little embarrassed. After all, they’d only kissed twice.

_ I’m not a monk yet. _

“So that makes it okay?”

_ Maybe I just need to take a nap. _

He did look tired. And dirty. Like he hadn’t showered or slept in a few days. “How long did it take you to get here?” Shion asked.

_ A week and a half, about. _

“How did you travel?”

_ By horseback, mostly. The last day I hiked on foot. _

Shion sort of liked that image. Nezumi in his monastic clothing riding on horseback at Shion’s request. It was romantic. “Where’s your horse?”

_ Stabled outside the city. _

“Can it carry two?”

_ You’re not coming to the monastery. _

“What if I ask nicely?”

_ You haven’t done so yet. _

“Please?”

_ No. _

Shion sighed, rolling his eyes. “My bedroom is this way.” He opened the door and led Nezumi inside.

Nezumi eyed the bathroom.  _ Can I take a shower? _

“Go ahead.”

Nezumi grinned and took off his rakusu, tossing it onto the bed. He stripped out of his gi top, and Shion looked away to give him some privacy.

_ Baby.  _ Nezumi shoved the paper in front of his face.

“There’s a bathroom you can change in,” Shion pointed out.

_ I wanted to see your reaction.  _ Nezumi tried to step into Shion’s field of vision, but Shion just turned away again.  _ Come on. Play with me.  _ He put his hand on Shion’s shoulder and forcibly turned him around.

It was difficult for Shion to keep any expression off his face that might give him away. Nezumi’s body was firm, and properly fed. Not the skinny little kid he used to be; he was a grown man now, and he looked every bit his age of nineteen years. It seemed like he worked a lot in the sun, physical labor had shaped him. Shion fought back the urge to reach out and touch.

_ Pft. Gay.  _ Nezumi wrote, laughing.

“What is?” Shion said indignantly.

_ You. Your face. _

“Am not.”

_ Aren’t you?  _ Nezumi raised an eyebrow.

“I mean…” Shion wasn’t sure what to say. “I mean, I’m…” He swallowed, hoping his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt.

_ Relax. I’m messing with you. We’re both gay. That’s the joke. _

Shion nodded, looking away. “Yeah.” He’d never exactly said that about himself before. Strange.

_ I’m going to go shower.  _ Nezumi patted him on the head and handed him the notepad before walking away.

Shion watched him go and sat down on the bed, thinking deeply. Did he really want to go to the monastery? He could probably make Nezumi let him if he really tried, but was it the best option? After all, was he really dying? Who knew, right? It could be that this deterioration would stop and Shion would be too afraid to kill himself. Maybe he’d just learn to live with the disability.

“Maybe I should learn sign language,” he muttered to his own deadened ears. He held up his disabled hands and discarded the idea. He wouldn’t be able to get them to form those complicated little shapes. Besides, sign language was for  _ real  _ deaf people. Not him. He was just… he was… well, he didn’t quite identify with the term yet. He supposed he should get used to it, because like it or not that’s what he was.

Deaf.

Nezumi got out of the shower about fifteen minutes later, looking refreshed. “That was good,” he mouthed. Or maybe spoke, but Shion couldn’t hear it.

“Tell me about the monastery.”

Nezumi looked around for the notepad.  _ You wouldn’t like it. _

“Why not?”

_ It’s not what you think. It’s not a bunch of blissed-out monks sitting in meditation all day. It’s hard work. _

Shion nodded. “So tell me what you do. What does a typical day look like?”

Nezumi gave him a withering look before sitting down, resigned. He wrote out a schedule.

 

_ Morning: _

_ 4:30  wake up, shower, and dress. _

_ 5:25  zazen (sitting meditation) _

_ 6:00 kinhin (walking meditation) _

_ 6:10 zazen _

_ 6:45 service (chanting, prostrations) _

_ 7:05 soji (temple cleaning) _

_ 7:30 oryoki breakfast _

_ 8:00 work day begins _

 

_ Afternoon: _

_ 12:00 lunch break _

_ 12:30 zazen _

_ 1:05 kinhin _

_ 1:15 Dharma talk _

_ 1:45 work day resumes _

 

_ Evening: _

_ 5:00 work day ends _

_ 5:10 dinner _

_ 5:40 zazen _

_ 6:20 service _

_ 6:50 service ends _

_ 7:30 bedtime _

 

Shion inspected the schedule. “You have very little free time.”

_ Weekends look a bit different, we have a couple hours off. But you’re right. Very little time to ourselves. _

“I want to join.”

_ You don’t want to be a monk. Not really. _

“You don’t know what I want.”

Nezumi appeared to consider that.  _ It’s harder than it looks, Shion. _

“Throw me in headfirst.”

_ You’d have to quit your job. _

“Good.”

_ You’d have to commit fully to a Buddhist lifestyle. _

“I accept.”

_ Could you give up eating meat? _

“Yeah.”

_ Could you give up alcohol and drugs? _

“Like I do so much of that,” Shion said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

_ Could you even give up sex? _

“I’m still a virgin.”

Nezumi looked surprised.

“What’s that face about?” Shion asked, annoyed.

_ I thought you would have found someone. _

“No.”

Nezumi smiled.

“What?”

Nezumi shrugged.

“So can I go?”

Nezumi thought about it.  _ Sit with me. _

“Sit with you?”

_ In meditation. Sit zazen with me. For thirty five minutes. _

“No problem.”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow.  _ Fold your legs like I do, burmese style. Hold your hands like I do, in the cosmic mudra. Keep your back straight, shoulders back with as much space between your shoulders and your ears as possible. _

They got down on the floor and faced the wall. It was uncomfortable, but Shion tried his best. “Now what?”

_ Sit. Imagine your thoughts to be clouds passing through your mind. They’re separate from you. Don’t attach to them, just let them pass. When you feel your mind wandering, bring it back to stillness. You are not the clouds. You are the clear blue sky. Keep your eyes half open. _

Shion did as he was told, and Nezumi did the same.

There they sat, for what felt like an eternity. Every time Shion shifted he glanced over at Nezumi who was perfectly still, back straight, hands in the cosmic mudra.

His thoughts continuously slipped to work, or of embarrassing things that had happened to him. He thought of tomorrow, and what he was going to do when he had to type on his computer again with his disabled hands. He thought of how frustrating his life was, how unfair and dark it seemed to be.

He tried to bring his thoughts back to stillness, but he wasn’t sure what stillness was. There was no space between one thought and the next, no matter how hard he tried to detach from them.

At one point, Shion glanced down at his watch. It had only been ten minutes. How long were they going to do this for? Thirty five. God damn.

He grew itchy all over, but he didn’t want to move and scratch. Nezumi wasn’t moving, and to move felt wrong somehow. When was this going to be over? It was agonizing sitting doing nothing. It was boring. It was a waste of time. Is this really what Nezumi did all day? Maybe he didn’t actually want to go to the monastery.

His leg was getting numb. He worried about that. It started with mild tingles, then rew cold and stiff. Finally, he couldn’t move it at all. What was he to do? Nezumi wasn’t moving. What should he do?

He checked his watch. Twenty minutes. Fuck. Fuck this. He needed to move. He needed to do something other than sit.

When thirty five minutes finally rolled around, Shion was in pain. His back hurt, his leg was dead to the world, and his thoughts were racing even faster than usual.

_ How was that?  _ Nezumi wrote.

“Good,” Shion lied.

_ False speech is against the precepts.  _ Nezumi reprimanded him.

“Horrible,” Shion admitted.

_ Good. That was only thirty five minutes. Just wait until you do it for a week. _

“A week?” Shion asked incredulously.

_ It’s much easier than thirty five minutes. That’s the thing- the longer you do it, the better it is. The first two or so days of the week-long retreat will be horrible. Then, you won’t want it to end. _

Shion nodded. He was tired. Funny how he could sit still for a two hour movie but not for thirty five minutes of nothing. “I still want to go with you to the monastery.”

_ Why?  _ Nezumi asked.

“Because…” Shion thought about it. “Because I’m unhappy. I don’t know for sure if it’s the right decision, but I don’t want to die in the life I have now. Help me.”

Nezumi nodded.  _ Okay. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a monastery far removed from the rest of the world, a group of monks took a vow of silence. But there was an exception to this rule. Once every ten years the monks would be allowed to speak two words.  
> One monk who had been there for a decade was finally allowed his chance to speak to the master. “Bed… hard,” he said before turning and walking away.  
> Ten years later, he was called in to speak again. “Food… terrible.”  
> For ten more years he studied and meditated and worked at the monastery, before finally being allowed to speak for a third time. “I quit,” he said.  
> “I’m not surprised,” said the master. “You’ve done nothing but complain this whole time!”


	3. If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha

When things keep getting worse and worse, you think nothing can be surprising anymore. But it always is.

Shion said goodbye to his mother, explaining where he was going and what she was doing. Teary-eyed, she didn’t ask him to stay, but did cling to him for an extra-long time, as if she knew it was the last time she’d be seeing him.

As they walked to the horse’s stable, a day’s hike, Shion felt his legs getting tired much sooner than they usually would. About thirty minutes into their walk, he had to sit down.

“Are you okay?” Nezumi mouthed.

“I don’t know.” Shion massaged his legs, which were shaking with exertion. “I think… I can’t…” He choked up and had to stop talking.

Nezumi seemed to understand. He nodded.  _ We can rest here for a while.  _ He set down his backpack and put an arm around Shion’s shoulders.

Shion leaned into the touch and tried not to cry. How frustrating this all was. “We’re not going to be able to make it in a day at this rate.”

_ It’s okay. We have an extra day’s food. Let me carry your backpack. _

“No,” Shion insisted, standing up. “I can do it.”

Nezumi shrugged.

They kept walking, which was exhausting. Shion’s muscles protested the whole way, shaking and cramping. They had to stop about once every thirty minutes for a break, which was embarrassing. Shion wanted to be stronger. He wanted to not be sick.

_ You’re carrying a heavy backpack. It’s not so strange to have to break. _

“But  _ you  _ don’t have to.”

_ I do this all the time. _

“I should be stronger.”

_ It is what it is. _

They made it deep into the forest by nightfall, but not quite to the horse’s stable.

_ Let’s sleep here.  _ Nezumi set down his backpack and began to pitch the tent.  _ It’s going to be small, it’s meant for one. _

“Okay.” Shion squinted at the words on the page. It was getting dark, and hard to see. “I’m not going to be able to read your writing soon.”

Nezumi reached out and squeezed his hand.

Shion understood.

It took about half an hour to set up the tent and the sleeping bag, which needed to be unzipped to cover both of them. They crawled inside and curled up tightly together, trying to keep warm. As night fell, so did the cold, and the thin tent and unzipped sleeping bag were barely enough to keep their toes from freezing. Shion slept sporadically, and woke up with the first rays of the sun.

Nezumi looked plenty rested. “Good morning,” he mouthed.

“Good morning,” Shion said back.

Nezumi searched around for the notepad, which had gotten lost in the tent overnight.  _ How much can you hear? _

“Nothing,” Shion said sadly. “Nothing anymore.”

Nezumi nodded.  _ Let’s get this tent packed up and head out. The stable is only a three hour walk away. _

“It’ll be double that with me.”

_ C’est la vie. _

“You know, you’re a very different person than you were when you were sixteen.”

_ Change is inevitable and constant. I’m a very different person than I was even last night. _

“How so?”

_ I’ve lived more. Experienced more. Breathed more. _

“You’re insane.”

_ I’m awake. _

Shion grinned. “Let’s get the tent taken down.”

Nezumi nodded and crawled out of the tent. It took about thirty minutes to pack everything back up, and then they were on the road again.

Shion wasn’t sure why he expected any different, but he did indeed have to stop every thirty minutes along the way to the horse’s stable. By the time they finally made it, the sun was high in the sky and Shion was exhausted.

_ Hard part’s over. Now it’s just riding. Up ahead there’s a river. We follow the river upstream all the way back to the monastery. Should be an easy ride. _

Shion nodded. He’d done it. The hard part was over. Even he could sit on horseback for a few days, how hard could that be?

Nezumi tacked up the horse, a large, reddish stallion with broad shoulders and thick ankles. It was a beautiful animal, and Shion stared at it in wonder. He’d never actually seen a horse in person before. Nezumi hopped on its back with no problem, and held out his hand to help Shion up.

Shion struggled to get his foot in the stirrup, and Nezumi pulled him bodily up by his arm. Shion didn’t look nearly as graceful as Nezumi did.

Nezumi dug his heels into the horse’s sides and the animal took off in a trot, headed out of the stable and onto the path which Shion figured must lead to the river. Once in the open air, Nezumi dug his heels in again and the horse picked up its speed. Shion clung to Nezumi’s back, a bit nervous he might be thrown off. But on they rode with no problem, reaching the river in a matter of minutes.

It was strange to be out in nature with no sound. It made Shion realize just how loud the forest usually is. No birds, no wind, no babbling stream. Just silence, like a TV turned on mute. It was disconcerting.

Plus, they couldn’t even speak to each other. Nezumi’s hands were too busy with the reins to write, and besides, the ride was too bumpy.

After about fifteen minutes of uncomfortable silence, Shion realized he should probably try meditating. This was the perfect time, after all. Nothing else to do, outdoors in nature, in perfect silence.

He closed his eyes, trusting that Nezumi would control the horse enough to not throw them off.

He brought his mind to a standstill and focussed on his breathing. In, out. In, out. Over and over he counted his breaths until he lost focus, then he began again. In, out. In, out. He fell into a sort of trance, wherein everything seemed rather present. Very aware of his surroundings, Shion clung to Nezumi tighter. It was so good to be back with him. It felt right, even if everything else in his life was going so wrong.

Suddenly, he jolted out of his trance. “I didn’t tell work I’m quitting!”

He could feel Nezumi’s laughter shake his back.

“I’ll do that now.” He dictated a quick email into his wristband, and burst out laughing after he sent it. “I just left my life!”

Nezumi held out a thumbs up as the horse cantered on.

“Oh man, it’s only been twenty minutes since I started meditating. I thought it was an hour.”

Nezumi shook his head.

“I figured since we can’t really talk that well on this trip… Are you meditating too?”

Nezumi nodded.

“Of course you are. You’re good at it.”

Nezumi shrugged.

“I’ll get back to it, then. Since we can’t really talk.”

Nezumi held out a thumbs up.

Shion sighed and tried to resume his meditation. Where was that trance he’d been in? It felt like it was lost forever. He focussed on his breathing and his mind continued to wander.

_ I’m going to die. I bet my muscles will get so weak that my heart gives up too. I bet I’ll lose the ability to swallow and starve to death while I sit in a wheelchair as a drooling heap of a person. Maybe this was impulsive. Maybe I should have stayed and gone into the hospital. No. I don’t want to die in a hospital. If I’m going to die, I want to do it while I’m awake. Both spiritually and physically. I want to go to the monastery to come to terms with death and die like a man. On my feet. _

_ Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be meditating. _

_ Om… _

_ Maybe if things get so bad I can’t kill myself Nezumi wouldn’t mind helping me. Can I ask him to do that? Would that be too large a request? He used to threaten to kill me before, but he’s so different now. _

_ Oh. Meditating. Right. _

_ Om… _

_ Is that even the right mantra? Is that a Buddhist thing to say? Om? I don’t know much about world religions. I should have read more books before insisting on joining the monastery. What if I can’t believe in what they teach? What will I do? _

_ No, meditating. _

_ Om… _

_ It’s all fine. Even if I don’t believe it will be good to be with Nezumi in my final days. Is meditating even a real thing? Does it actually work? Because I don’t seem to be very good at it. _

_ Om… Om… OMMMM… _

_ How long have I been doing this for? I should check my watch. No. Don’t do that. You’ll wreck your concentration. Hell, my concentration’s already wrecked, what could it hurt? Especially if it will ease my mind. _

_ Ten minutes?? Damn it! I’m really bad at this. How did I ever manage thirty five minutes last night? _

_ Om… _

_ Nezumi has really nice arms. _

_ Shut the fuck up, brain, I’m trying to do something. _

_ When he took of his clothes I wanted to lick him. _

_ Jesus, fuck. Shut up! _

_ Look at him in his religious clothing, riding on horseback to his monastery. How hot would it be if I- _

_ SHUT UP! _

_ -if I did it with a priest? That’s a fantasy for sure… _

_ God, I’m disgusting. _

_ Make him break his vow of chastity. _

_ OMMM… OMMM… OMMM… _

Hours, they rode. With a short break for lunch, they rode until nightfall. Nezumi tied the horse to a tree near the water and pitched their tent. He then went down to the riverside and pressed his hands together in prayer. Shion saw him mouthing words, but he couldn’t tell what they were. They looked to be in a different language. When he was done, Nezumi prostrated himself on the river rocks, forehead to the ground. He did this nine times, then bowed standing. He came back to Shion.

“What was that?”

He searched out the notepad.  _ I didn’t do this last night, you distracted me. _

“But what were you saying?”

Nezumi hesitated, then wrote something down and handed it to Shion.

 

_ Ēnmēi Jūkku Kānnōn Gyō _

_ kan ze on _

_ na mu butsu _

_ yo butsu u in _

_ yo butsu u en _

_ bup po so en _

_ jo raku ga jo _

_ cho nen kan ze on _

_ bo nen kan ze on _

_ nen nen ju shin ki _

_ nen nen fu ri shin _

  
  


Shion read over the chant a few times. “What does it mean?”

_ It’s the Sutra of Protecting Life. It essentially means you venerate the Buddha, that your thoughts are focussed on the Buddha, and you create compassion within yourself. I can’t translate the whole thing, but that’s pretty much the point. _

“Okay.” Shion read over the chant again, thinking about that. A sudden thought struck him. “What if I’m an atheist? Can I still participate?”

_ We’re all atheists. _

“Oh. But-”

Nezumi shook his head, holding up a finger.  _ It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it so much. The Buddha says to look and see for yourself if the teaching is true. _

“What is the teaching?”

_ That’s a good question.  _ Nezumi smiled.  _ Come meditate with me. _

Shion sighed. “Okay.” He’d been trying unsuccessfully to meditate all day, and it hadn’t done any good. “For how long?”

_ Thirty five minutes. _

They sat down on the soft grass by the river and folded their legs and hands into the appropriate positions.

Shion tried to let his mind sink into oblivion. He really did try. But everything was just too loud inside his head. Plus he was tired, and sitting still made him want to fall asleep.

_ I wonder where we stand in our relationship. He was flirting with me the other day, but he hasn’t really said anything since. I wonder if I should say something. Maybe he’s not allowed to have romantic relationships. Maybe that’s part of the precepts. I’d really like to touch him. I’d like for him to touch me. _

_ Focus, Shion. _

_ I should say something after we meditate. I should do something. It’s my turn, right? He said something back at my place, so now it’s my turn to say something. _

_ Focus. Breathe in, out. In, out. 1, 2, 3, 4… _

_ Maybe I’m just overly hormonal. I wish I could masturbate, but I have no privacy. It’ll be torturous if I have to go for a week and a half without touching myself. Damn, do I really have that little self-control? What’s wrong with me? _

_ Breathe. In, out. In, out. _

_ My mind is a clear blue sky. The clouds are just passing by… I’m not attached. _

_ Breath in, out. In, out. _

_ Om… Om… Om… _

_ But even these are thoughts. Can I get complete silence? _

_ …  … … _

_ There. Damn it. I had another thought. Here we go again. Come on, do better. Nezumi seems good at what he’s doing. Be like him. _

_ …  … … _

Thirty five minutes couldn’t come soon enough. When it was finally over, Nezumi tapped him on the shoulder. Shion’s eyes had fallen closed.

“Are we done?” Shion asked, relieved.

Nezumi nodded.

Shion thought to himself for a moment. He had a burning question in his mind, but he wasn’t sure it was appropriate to ask. Oh well, might as well go for it. It’s not like he could hear Nezumi laughing at him. “Did you take a vow of chastity?”

Nezumi hesitated, then burst out laughing. Shion looked away.

Nezumi shoved the paper under his nose.  _ Why? Are you interested? _

“I’m just curious.”

_ No. I’m not a monk. _

“Do you want to be?”

_ Yeah. _

“Will you take a vow of chastity at that point?”

_ Probably. For a little while at least. Buddhism doesn’t hold sex as sacred. One of the precepts is to abstain from sensual misconduct, but not conduct in general. _

“Oh. What are the precepts?”

Nezumi wrote a list.

 

_ Avoid taking life _

_ Avoid taking things not given _

_ Avoid sensual misconduct (not just about sex, but gluttony and other sense pleasures) _

_ Avoid false speech _

_ Avoid intoxicants _

 

Shion read over the list. “And you follow all of this? Are you a vegetarian?”

_ I’m a vegan. _

“Will I be?”

_ So long as you stay at the monastery. _

“Okay.”

_ Still time to turn back. _

“No.”

Nezumi shrugged.  _ Time for bed. _

Shion nodded, feeling things were still unresolved.

Nezumi smiled at him, leaning in and kissing him softly. “Goodnight,” he mouthed.

“Goodnight,” Shion barely whispered. Ah. Maybe that’s what it was. He was unsure where they stood in their relationship, so Nezumi had gently showed him. He felt better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was once a strict and merciless Zen master known as Master Linji. His taught that the only way to enlightenment was by full and unrelenting commitment to the Way. To live every moment as if it was your last, and never to stop paying attention.  
> He taught that if anything stands in your way, you must be rid of it. Anything that distracts you, impedes you, destroy it. This was the way of not only his Zen students, but also the samurai.  
> Even if you should meet the Buddha standing in your path, he taught, you must kill the Buddha. Should you meet the patriarchs or the arhats on the road, you must kill them too. In this way, you should become enlightened.


	4. Impatience

One and a half weeks in the forest goes by slowly. Shion and Nezumi spent every spare moment in deep meditation, focussing on their breath and freeing their mind of thought. By the time they began their final day’s journey, Shion was existentially exhausted. His brain felt fried, and his body weak. The poor horse seemed tired too, though he kept on running. Shion took inspiration from that. If the horse could keep running with two fully grown men on his back, Shion could keep moving as well.

They arrived at the monastery in the evening, sweating and tired. Shion’s muscles were weak, and he would have collapsed to the ground if Nezumi hadn’t been there to catch him.

Nezumi held up a thumbs up with his eyebrows raised, like he was asking a question.

“I’m fine.” Shion shakily stood on his own.

A woman in a brown robe with a shaved head approached them. Nezumi bowed, and Shion followed suit.

She began to speak, and Nezumi nodded along, speaking back when was necessary. Shion stood, out of the loop and rather nervous. This seemed like an important person, he wished he could hear what she was saying.

Nezumi pulled out the notebook and wrote,  _ This is Karasu Roshi, the head priest here at Mahabhakti. I told her you want to join as a lay practitioner, and she accepts. _

Shion nodded, unsure of what to say.

Nezumi wrote down some more.  _ She says you’ll stay in the same dorm as me, and that there are clothing in the shower closet you can have. Say thank you and bow. _

“Thank you,” Shion said and bowed.

Karasu Roshi bowed back, and spoke to Nezumi.

Nezumi wrote it down.  _ She says to shower and go to bed, that we’ve already missed tonight’s zazen. _

Shion nodded, stepping a bit closer to Nezumi, intimidated by this austere-looking priest.

_ Don’t worry, she’s nice. _

Shion took a deep breath, wishing desperately that he could hear. He wanted to know the tone of her voice, the exact words she was saying to him.

They bowed once more, and Karasu Roshi continued on her way.

_ Let’s go shower. It’ll feel nice after only bathing in the river for the past week and a half. _

Nezumi led him to the showers, which were communal and traditional-looking. There were no stalls between the showerheads, just an open room where everyone bathed together.

Shion fought back the thought,  _ I’m going to see him naked,  _ as he stripped out of his clothes. Best to keep that thought out of his mind.

“There’s really no privacy here, huh?” Shion commented to ease his anxiety.

Nezumi shook his head and untied his gi. “None,” he mouthed.

That was going to be difficult. Shion awkwardly took off his pants and underwear, setting them on a bench with his shirt. He switched on the water and stepped under the stream. It felt good to wash the river water and sweat off his body. His skin felt refreshed and clean. He struggled not to look at Nezumi while he showered, but curiosity got the better of him. He’d never actually seen Nezumi completely naked before.

He glanced over and was startled to find Nezumi blatantly staring at him.

“What?” Shion asked, uncomfortable.

Nezumi shrugged and kept staring.

“What?” Shion asked again.

Nezumi mouthed something that looked suspiciously like, “I forgot how pretty you are.”

Shion blushed and looked away. Best to focus on showering, no need to stir things up when he had no privacy to… fix it.

He looked around to find a small caddy of soaps and shampoos hanging on the wall. He selected one and scrubbed his hair clean. That felt amazing. He hadn’t realized how grimy he was until he was clean.

He jumped at the sudden feeling of a hand on the small of his back.

“Don’t!” Shion exclaimed, looking around anxiously.

“Nobody’s here,” Nezumi mouthed.

“They could walk in at any moment,” Shion protested.

Nezumi shook his head, which was not a satisfactory answer.

Shion pulled away. “You’ll make me… don’t do that.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes, but walked back under his own shower stream.

Shion looked away pointedly, focussing on scrubbing his body down with soap. A moment later, by the pricking of hair on the back of his neck, Shion looked back over.

Nezumi had one hand braced against the wall, the other busy touching himself.

Shion gasped, and slapped a hand over his mouth. He stood frozen under the stream of water, not sure what to do or how to react.

Nezumi glanced over at him and laughed.

Shion glared at him, and glanced nervously at the shower door. Nobody else was there, but it’s not like there was a lock.

Shion’s breath was coming in shallow gasps, and his skin was heating up. He tried to look away, but found he couldn’t. He wanted to reach out and touch, or to touch himself. Nezumi looked so… erotic.

Moments later, Nezumi kicked back his head and bit his bottom lip as he came, water washing everything away. He shut off his shower and walked over to the closet to find clean clothes and a towel, leaving Shion shocked and turned on under the water.

Shion shook himself and switched the water to ice cold, closing his eyes and trying to calm down.  _ Just breathe,  _ he told himself.  _ That was… weird. Don’t react. He’s trying to get a reaction out of you. _

Finally under control, he switched off the water and stomped past Nezumi to the closet, taking one of the towels and drying off.

Nezumi watched him the whole time, a smug smile on his lips.

Shion selected a gi and put it on, happy to be clothed again.

Nezumi put on his  rakusu and grinned. He picked up the notebook and wrote,  _ You’re still blushing. _

“Wouldn’t you be?” Shion said, annoyed.

_ I would have joined in. _

“Of course you would have.”

_ Let’s go to bed. _

Shion shot him one more glare before consenting and following a step behind as Nezumi led him across the campus to a dorm room. Inside, there were three sets of bunk beds, all six empty, each against a wall. Nezumi pointed to one on the bottom. “That’s yours,” he mouthed.

Shion nodded and sat down on the bed, sticking his old clothes in a trunk by the head. He looked around the threadbare room, wooden walls blank except for one hanging by the door which read,  _ Everything changes. Everything is connected. Pay attention. _

Nezumi climbed up the ladder to the bunk above Shion’s, putting his rakusu in the box hanging off the edge of his bed.

That’s when Shion realized he was alone. Unable to communicate across distances or around physical barriers, he sat in complete silence on his new bed, feeling the weakness of his muscles. How long before he was in a wheelchair? How long before he couldn’t speak? He looked at his hands, feeling trapped inside his own body, a sinking ship that the rats had abandoned. What could he do?

He closed his eyes and sat on the edge of his bed, trying to meditate. He stilled his mind and body, keeping the right posture and handshape.

Suddenly, an intense calm washed over him. He felt centered, like a snake curled around a stick of bamboo. Flexible, yet safe. He sat for a long time, enjoying this feeling. He found himself not needing to think, not needing to distract himself or check the time. A tingling flowed through his stomach to the top of his head, and he felt at one with nature.

When he did open his eyes, the dorm had filled with people. Young men in gis stomped around the small room, laughing and playing. Nezumi was one of them. Shion smiled, realizing these were Nezumi’s friends. He had a community here, full of people he cared for. Like a family.

How honored Shion felt that he had been allowed in.

One of the young men noticed Shion’s eyes open.

“Hello,” he mouthed, waving.

“Hello,” Shion said back.

Nezumi nudged the young man, handing him the notebook turned over to a clean page.

_ I’m Jun. _

“I’m Shion.”

_ Welcome to Mahabhakti. How long have you been practicing Zen? _

Shion looked away, kind of embarrassed by his answer. “About a week and a half.”

_ And you’re already at a monastery? Wow, you must be serious. I envy your beginner’s mind. Do you know sign language? _

“No. I only went deaf recently.”

_ Some of the monks here know sign language. They use it when they take a vow of silence. _

“That’s interesting,” Shion sat forward in his seat. “Maybe I should learn.”

Another young man shoved Jun out of the way and knelt before Shion.  _ I’m Katsuo. I’ve been here longest. I’m going to be a monk. _

“Oh,” Shion said, surprised by the sudden interruption. “That’s nice.”

Jun rolled his eyes. “We’re all going to be monks,” Shion caught his lips moving.

“But I’ve been here longest,” Katsuo retorted. Shion was impressed with himself for being able to understand what was said.

Nezumi sat down on Shion’s bed next to him, snatching the notepad back from Katsuo.  _ How was your meditation? You sat for a really long time. _

“It was good.” Shion smiled. “How long?”

_ Around thirty minutes. _

“I was able to clear my mind for the first time.”

_ That’s good. You looked peaceful. If you weren’t deaf we would all have been quiet for you. _

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your free time.”

_ No, we understand that meditation is more important. It’s what we’re all here for. _

The boys were settling into bed, all talking and laughing with one another. Shion wished he could join in. Being deaf was going to be awfully lonely. At least he had Nezumi.

Nezumi hopped up and went to sit on another boy’s bed. They chatted for a moment, seeming like close friends. Shion wondered who he was, the other boy. Had they known each other long? How long had Nezumi been here? What were his relationships with these other people like?

The other boy wrapped his arm around Nezumi’s shoulders, smiling and saying something that made Nezumi laugh.

Shion surprised himself by feeling a little jealous.

Nezumi leaned into the other boy’s side, and said something else that Shion couldn’t hear. He caught Shion’s eyes and seemed to understand what he was feeling. He held up a finger and got out the notebook.

_ We’re talking about Joshu’s “Mu.” It’s a story wherein a student walks up to Joshu and asks if a dog has Buddha nature, which we all know it does. Joshu surprises the student by saying “Mu,” which means “No thing,” or “It is not being.” He asked me if a cow has Buddha nature too, and said “Moo.” _

He hesitated.  _ It’s not so funny written down. _

“No, I get it,” said Shion, though he didn’t really. Clearly it was a pun, but beyond that he had no real context. He didn’t know these stories half as well as these other young men. He didn’t know them at all.

Nezumi inspected Shion’s expression closely.  _ It’s a different culture around here. We’re all very comfortable with each other. You’ll get used to it. _

Shion nodded. He hoped he would be able to get used to it. He hoped he could participate in the culture. Right now, he felt pretty isolated.

_ These people are nice. Don’t let them intimidate you. _

“I won’t.” Shion tried to smile. He was brand new. Of course he’d feel a bit out of place. Nezumi was right, he should allow himself to feel comfortable.

Someone opened the door, an older man in the same black gi they all wore. He said something and switched off the light.

Instantly, Shion’s stomach contracted. He couldn’t speak anymore. If he couldn’t see, he couldn’t see what was written down. He couldn’t communicate in darkness.

Nezumi rubbed his back, seeming to understand. He leaned into Shion’s side and wrapped an arm around him. Saying goodnight.

Shion leaned into the touch, and felt Nezumi’s hand on his cheek, turning his face so they were ostensibly looking at each other in the near perfect darkness. Nezumi leaned in and kissed him, lingering for a long moment before pulling away. He brushed his fingers over Shion’s scar, and stood to climb back up into his own bed.

Alone, deaf, and now blinded by the night, Shion curled up under the cotton blankets and shut his eyes, pretending he felt safe.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, and when he finally did, he was woken up what felt like a minute later.

The sun was still down, but the lights were on, and everyone was waking up, looking grumpy. Shion figured alarm clocks had gone off that he couldn’t hear, because Nezumi had shaken him awake.

_ Time to shower and go to zazen. _

Shion nodded, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

_ 4:30 _

“Damn it.” Shion rolled out of bed and followed the other boys out of the dorm. They met up with sleepy groups of other men of varying ages on their way to the shower, and passed by a group of women heading the opposite direction towards their own showers.

Shion was a bit uncomfortable getting naked in front of everyone, but nobody else seemed to share his discomfort, which made it easier.

He noticed people staring at him with amazed expressions. He looked down at himself, confused, before remembering they’d surely never seen a scar like his before.

One older man of about sixty approached Shion and started talking.

Shion was too say anything, uncomfortable at being naked, and absolutely unable to comprehend what was being said.

Nezumi came to his rescue, explaining something to the old man, who looked surprised, mouthed “I’m sorry,” and backed away.

“Did you just tell him I’m deaf?”

Nezumi nodded.

“Oh. I could have said that.”

Nezumi shrugged. “You didn’t,” he mouthed and went back to his own shower.

Shion stepped under the water and cleaned up as quickly as possible before towelling off and stepping back into his clothes. Nezumi appeared to do the same, because he was done almost as quickly as Shion. He wrapped an arm around Shion’s shoulders as they left the showers, carrying the notebook under his arm. Once they were outside he wrote,  _ You look good in black. With your hair and skin. _

Shion shoved him away. “Stop it, other people can read what you write.”

Nezumi shrugged and erased what he’d written.  _ Better? _

“You’re more forward than you’ve ever been.”

_ Three years is a long time to change. Plus, I think you’re just better at noticing it now. _

Shion rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t  _ that  _ oblivious.”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow.  _ Time for zazen. _

It was still dark outside, so they were only communicating by the small lamps that lined the walls of the monastery.

Along with several others, they entered the foyer of the meditation hall. There was an ornate altar in the front of the room, and Nezumi bowed when he passed it, so Shion did the same. They took off their shoes and put them on a shelf with others. People milled about the foyer, chatting with each other.

_ We have about half an hour before it’s time to start, so we can just hang out here. _

Shion nodded. “What’s that?” He pointed at the altar.

_ That’s a butsudan. It means Buddha altar. It’s where we honor the ancestors in the lineage of this temple. Lineage is very important. _

“Oh, okay.” Shion inspected the altar. It was full of interesting objects. Candles, incense, flowers, two wooden sticks, and a third wooden stick that was a bit curvy. It was all very beautifully arranged.

_ Let me show you around.  _ Nezumi shoved the notebook in front of Shion’s face.

“Okay.”

They walked out of the foyer into a room with stairs, which they ascended. Upstairs were several rooms marked  _ Private, don’t enter.  _ And one room marked  _ Library.  _ Nezumi took him into the latter.

The room, as expected, was full of books.

_ You can come up here to study in any freetime you have.  _ He searched the shelves briefly and pulled down a book. He handed it to Shion.

“Monastic sign language,” Shion read the title. “Should I learn this?”

_ I thought we could learn it together. _

Shion opened the book to find an alphabet of hand shapes sketched out on the first page. He sat down at a table and began to run through the letters. His hands shook as he tried to form the signs. “My hands don’t want to do this. They’re too weak.”

_ Practice makes practice. _

“Don’t you mean practice makes perfect?”

_ No. _

Shon thought about that and went back to studying the signs. Nezumi did the same.

Too soon, it seemed, Nezumi looked up as if he’d heard a noise.

_ That was the rolldown of the han. We should go. _

“Okay.” Shion closed the book and Nezumi replaced it on the shelf. They dashed back downstairs to join the crowd in the foyer, who were funnelling into the room marked  _ zendo.  _ They bowed as they entered, and went to find a seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, a student at a monastery came up to the master. “How long will I have to study before I become enlightened?” he asked.  
> The master thought about it and replied, “Ten years.”  
> The student was disappointed. “But what if I work harder than everyone? How long will it take me then?”  
> “Thirty years,” the master said.  
> The student was distraught. “That’s too long! What if I focus more intensively than any student you’ve ever had? What then?”  
> “In that case, I think it would take seventy years.”  
> Sighing, the student bowed to the master and agreed to stay and try.


	5. Miracles

Inside the zendo there were large flat pillows lined up around the walls, and some in small clusters in the middle of the room. On top of the large, flat pillows were small, round pillows. Nezumi chose one set of pillows and bowed to it. Shion took the set next to him and did the same. Nezumi then turned clockwise and bowed to the room, so Shion did that too. He felt a little lost. He’d never done anything like this before. Nezumi continued to turn clockwise back to his pillow, and since Shion wasn’t sure what was important, he did this as well. Nezumi moved his small pillow backwards on the large pillow and sat on the first third of it. Shion mimicked him. Nezumi folded his legs and hands like they’d done before, and Shion finally felt comfortable knowing something. He folded his hands in the cosmic mudra, and closed his eyes halfway.

Shion could feel the floor shake as people walked past him, taking their seats. He focussed his mind, trying to go back to the place he’d been last night. It was difficult. His eyes kept falling closed, and he wanted to go to sleep. It was only five thirty in the morning, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. Still, he was expected to sit in a warm, dark room full of incense and stay awake? It seemed impossible.

He was getting frustrated only two minutes in. He glanced over at Nezumi, who was sitting in perfect stillness with his eyes half-open.

Five minutes in and he was barely awake. He kept nodding off and rocking forward in his seat.

Ten minutes in and his head was on his chest.

Fifteen minutes and he shook himself back awake, trying to focus.

Twenty minutes and his mind was in a lucid dream.

Twenty five minutes and he shook himself back out of it, focussing his mind.

Thirty minutes and he wanted to cry with exhaustion.

Thirty five minutes and Nezumi reached over to touch his leg. The bell had rung. It was over.

Ready to cheer with relief, Shion stood as the rest of them did. He bowed to his cushions, then bowed to the center of the room and stood like Nezumi, with his right hand covering his left fist. They bowed again with the rest, and spaced themselves out around the room in a circle.

What was going to happen? Shion felt out of the loop.

Suddenly, everyone started walking. Slowly. Painfully slowly. One step every few seconds, and the steps they took were  _ small.  _ Heel to toe, heel to toe, over and over and over and Shion didn’t know what he was doing. He tried to steady his mind and find that place from the night before, but he was so focussed on copying Nezumi, who stood in front of him. For ten minutes, this walking continued. Shion’s leg muscles protested the exertion, which was probably a very bad sign. Finally, they made it back to their cushions, only to bow again and sit back down for another round of zazen.

Shion wanted to scream.

His mind was completely focussed on staying awake the whole time. Several times he found himself nodding forward into the wall before jerking back up. Probably everyone was laughing at him and he just couldn’t hear it. Probably everyone was talking about what a terrible meditator he was. How he didn’t fit in at the monastery, and why was he even here? This weirdo with the pale skin, white hair, and red scar. He didn’t even look like them, and the dark, uniform clothing only made that stand out more sharply.

Ten minutes in and Shion found himself actually crying. Emotions bubbled up in his chest, and he fought to suppress them. What was wrong with him?

_ I’m going to die,  _ he thought.  _ I’m sitting here, doing nothing, away from the hospital while I’m dying. I said goodbye to my mother. What if I never see her again? Why did I leave? What the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so impulsive? Why is this so hard? It doesn’t seem hard for Nezumi. He’s sitting there with perfect posture, and I can’t even walk properly. I’m deaf, and I can’t even learn sign language because my hands don’t work properly. I’m losing my myelin, and I’ve made that Nezumi’s problem. He’s going to have to watch me die here in his home. In his happy place. I’m going to ruin that for him. Attachment really does cause suffering. I’m attached to my life, and that’s causing me to be sad I’m losing it. I’m attached to my health, and so I’m suffering now that it’s fading. Nezumi’s attached to me, and I’m going to make him watch me go. _

Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn’t control them. Why was he so emotional? He tried to empty his mind, but the emotions only came back with a fervor.

By the time he finally managed to stop crying pathetically, the period of zazen was over. Nezumi touched his leg, and they bowed to the wall before standing up, bowing to the cushion, and then to the room.

They pulled their cushions a foot away from the wall and stood behind them, taking the small, round cushions off the larger ones and moving them to the side. Was there something else still to do? Shion racked his brain trying to remember the schedule Nezumi had written for him, but drew a blank. Someone in the corner hit a large metal bowl with a stick, which presumably made a sound, and everyone dropped to their knees. Then, they prostrated themselves on their large, flat cushions. Once their heads were on the ground, they raised their arms with their hands facing up above their ears before lowering them and standing again. They did this a total of nine times before it was over, and Shion’s muscles ached. They bowed standing, the bowl was struck again (Shion wished he could hear it, that would be much easier), and someone passed out chant cards.

Shion took it and read it over quickly. He wasn’t going to be able to chant with the group, he knew. He wouldn’t be able to match their pitch or speed, and it seemed pointless for him to participate anyway. He couldn’t hear it.

Nezumi looked at him sadly as he took his own chant card and raised it briefly in the air.

Shion read the words in his head.

 

_ Shōsāimyō Kichijō Darani _

 

_ No mo san man da _

_ moto nan _

_ oha ra chi koto sha _

_ sono nan to ji to _

_ en gya gya _

_ gya ki gya ki _

_ un nun _

_ shifu ra shifu ra _

_ hara shifu ra hara shifu ra _

_ chishu sa chishu sa _

_ chishu ri chishu ri _

_ soha ja soha ja _

_ sen chi gya _

_ shiri ei so mo ko _

 

Shion watched everyone’s mouths move in unison, wishing he could participate. He felt like an outsider standing silently as everyone chanted around him. Except-

In the back, three monks stood quietly, not chanting. Two men and one woman, all standing saying nothing. Shion wondered if they had taken a vow of silence. Interesting. He smiled, suddenly not feeling so alone.

Once the chanting was done, they all prostrated themselves nine more times. By the end of it, Shion’s muscles were cramped and shaking. They bowed twice more standing, and Shion wobbled out of the zendo, bowing to Karasu Roshi as he saw everyone else do.

Nezumi helped Shion to a seat once they were out in the foyer. “Are you okay?” he mouthed, kneeling in front of Shion.

Shion nodded, rubbing his legs. “The prostrations hurt.”

Nezumi stood and went to get the notebook from the shelf with their shoes.  _ You should do standing bows next time. _

“I didn’t know I could.”

_ I’ll show you how later. _

“Show me how to do everything. I was totally lost.”

Nezumi nodded.  _ I should have taught you all this before we got here. _

“Probably,” Shion laughed. “But it’s okay. I’ll learn.”

_ It’s time for soji. Temple cleaning. I’ll find you an easy job. _

Shion nodded and stood. That’s when Karasu Roshi approached them. She addressed Shion, though Nezumi was the only one to nod along.

_ She wants you to go meet with the monks. They want to communicate with you.  _ Nezumi explained vaguely.

Karasu Roshi continued to speak to Shion.

_ She wants both of us to go. Up to the library. Instead of soji. _

Shion nodded, and they both bowed. Karasu Roshi bowed back.

Uncertain of what they were meant to do, Shion and Nezumi made their way upstairs to the library, where the three silent monks were already waiting.

Nezumi bowed deeply to them, and Shion did the same. All three monks bowed back to them, and gestured for them to sit.

_ These three monks have taken a vow of silence,  _ Nezumi wrote on a clean page.

The monks read upside down what he had written and nodded. One of them set the sign language book down on the table.

Shion nodded his understanding. They were going to teach him. He smiled.

Carefully, slowly, they went through the alphabet. Shion had to force his hand into some of the positions. He found it hard to make a full fist, his grip was slackening. By the end of the alphabet, Shion’s hand was shaking. Nezumi spoke, explaining something to the monks, who nodded.

_ I told them your muscles are weak. _

Shion nodded sadly.

The female monk pushed the book towards Shion, who took it. “I’ll practice,” he promised. They bowed, and Nezumi and Shion bowed back. Time for breakfast.

In front of Shion sat a set of what looked like it was probably bowls, covered by a cloth. Nobody was touching it, so he didn’t either. Milk, salt, and butter was passed around, and everyone bowed as they were received. It seemed people bowed here quite a lot more than they did in the regular world.

Everyone chanted with their palms pressed together, which left Shion out. He held his hands in gasshou, but his world was silent as everyone else participated in the prayer.

Then, they all opened the fabric-covered bowl set. There was clearly a very specific form to doing so, because Nezumi did it slower than everyone else so Shion could follow along.

They unwrapped the bowls and folded the cloth in a very particular way, and laid out their utensils in a similarly specific manner. Then, food was served. All except Shion chanted as two people came around and filled their bowls with rice, soup, and vegetables.

Everyone took a small amount of rice from their bowl and put it on the end of a spatula-like utensil which sat between two of the bows. Then, they placed their chopsticks diagonally across the middle bowl and pressed their hands together.

A short bowing ritual followed before the rice on the end of the spatula was scraped off into a pan.

It was all very confusing, but finally they were allowed to eat.

It had been a long day already, Shion felt, and he was getting increasingly exhausted. It was only 7:30 in the morning, but he’d been awake for three hours. Next, the work day would begin.

Once they finished eating, a cleaning ritual was performed. Shion barely bothered to memorize it, he was so tired of the fastidious little details. It involved hot water from a kettle and the spatula, that’s all he cared to remember in detail. He’d get it next time.

_ What did you think?  _ Nezumi wrote.

“That was exhausting,” Shion sighed. “So much work just to eat.”

_ It becomes second nature. Not a movement wasted though, huh? _

“It was very precise.”

_ Lunch and dinner are the same. _

“Dear god.”

_ Dear Buddha. _

“Where do we go for the work day?”

_ You and I are in the garden with the rest of the men from our dorm. We rotate every now and then. _

“Okay.”

Nezumi led him to a beautiful garden, overflowing with vegetables and flowers.

_ We work in silence. You won’t feel left out. _

Shion nodded as everyone set to work. Pulling weeds, watering the plants, trimming dead leaves, there was endless work to be done. They worked as a machine in the hot sun, sweat rolling down their backs and sticking their clothing to them.

Soon, though, Shion had to stop. His right hand wasn’t moving. Stunned, he stared at it, trying to force his fingers to wiggle. Nothing. He wiggled the fingers of his left hand just to check that he wasn’t crazy. That was fine. He could still  _ feel  _ his right hand, there was sensation. He just couldn’t move it.

Noticing he wasn’t working, Jun walked over to him and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

“I can’t move my hand,” Shion said dully, horrified. He tried to stand and his muscles failed. He fell to the ground, landing roughly on his hands and knees.

Jun helped him up, looking concerned. He mouthed something Shion couldn’t understand and waved down Nezumi, who brought over the notebook.

_ What’s wrong?  _ Nezumi wrote, looking equally as concerned as Jun.

“I can’t move my hand, and it seems I can’t stand up.” Shion blinked, fighting back the urge to cry out in terror.

Nezumi said something to Jun and put Shion’s arm over his shoulder, helping him walk away from the garden. They forgot the notebook behind.

Shion had no idea where they were going, and Nezumi seemed to distracted by his own anxieties about the situation to figure out a way to explain it. So off they went in informational blindness all the way across campus, which was a difficult task. Shion’s limbs didn’t want to move. He stumbled even as Nezumi propped him up and balanced him. Finally, they arrived at a room marked  _ infirmary. _

They walked in and sat down on a bench. Soon, a young female nurse approached them. She mouthed something Shion couldn’t understand and Nezumi answered for him. The two of them then went into a short conversation before she pulled out a new notebook and wrote something down.

_ We’re not equipped to handle myelin deteriorating diseases here. We serve the needs of the monks and the surrounding community, but we are a small and poor organization. _

Honestly, Shion was more surprised by the words  _ surrounding community  _ than by anything else. Did that mean there were people living in the forest outside of the monastery? And they also came here for medical treatment? Interesting.

“I don’t need treatment. I just need to rest.” Shion looked at Nezumi sharply. “You shouldn’t have brought me here.”

_ You need a wheelchair.  _ Nezumi wrote.

“No I don’t!” Shion exclaimed indignantly. “I’m fine!”

_ I can’t carry you everywhere. _

“It’s just because I worked so hard.”

_ That was fifteen minutes. _

“And I can do more. Just let me try.”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow and gestured for Shion to stand up.

Shion met his gaze challengingly and pushed himself to his feet only to collapse back down hard. “I don’t need a wheelchair,” he insisted less convincingly.

The nurse knelt in front of him, taking his motionless right hand and massaging it gently. She said something to Nezumi, who nodded.

“What are you saying?” Shion asked, annoyed.

_ She says the motion might come back you your hand, you may have just overexerted yourself. _

“That’s what I’m saying!” Shion agreed. “I don’t need a wheelchair.”

_ I challenge you to walk back to the garden. _

Shion hesitated.

_ You don’t have to use it all the time, just in these situations. _

“Is Mahabhakti even wheelchair accessible?” Shion asked, hoping the answer was no and that would end the discussion.

Nezumi nodded.  _ You’re going to need one eventually. _

The reality of that hit Shion in slow motion. He was right. Whether today or tomorrow or some other day, he was going to wind up in a wheelchair. It was inevitable.

Maybe he should kill himself.

The nurse stood up and went into another room briefly, returning with an old-looking wheelchair with a cracked leather seat.

Shion couldn’t help it. He covered his face with his hands and broke down crying. Nezumi sat down next to him and hesitantly put an arm around Shion’s shoulders. Shion leaned in to the touch, only sobbing harder. They sat there, embracing each other as the situation Shion was facing hit them both in the face.

The nurse gave them some privacy, stepping out of the room.

Nezumi rubbed Shion’s back, and kissed him on the cheek. If Shion could hear, he probably would be whispering words of reassurance. Or at least say something that might numb the pain. Shion wished he could hear it.

When he finally managed to calm down, Nezumi gave him a moment to recover before pulling back and mouthing, “Ready?”

Shion hesitated and nodded. Nezumi helped him to his feet, and helped him into the chair.

It was humiliating. A dull blush crept up his cheeks and he looked away from Nezumi, unable to meet his eyes. Besides the embarrassment of not being able to walk, being in a wheelchair put him firmly below Nezumi’s height, forcing him to look upwards, making him feel like he wasn’t even an equal. Like a child. That might have been what hurt most of all.

His hand still wasn’t working. Nezumi had to push the chair out the door and back to the garden, where he put Shion in front of a table, cutting plants for transplant. It was an easy job for most, and with some difficulty Shion could manage it with only one good hand.

The other boys stared at him. That wasn’t a good feeling. Shion tried to ignore them, which was difficult at first. He tried to focus on keeping his mind clear. On doing his work in a meditative fashion, cutting, soaking, and planting the new plants. Eventually, everyone went back to doing their work, and Shion was able to forget.

But forgetting couldn’t last forever. Once he ran out of work to do, he turned to the group for advice. Jun came to his rescue with the notepad.

_ Do you maybe want to learn ikebana? _

“What’s that?” Shion asked, squinting at the word.

_ Flower arranging. We cut the flowers out here and bring them into the temple as offerings to all the altars. I can show you a book. _

He dashed off and returned a few minutes later with a book full of beautiful pictures of flower arrangements. He dashed off again, returning momentarily with a collection of bowls and vases.

_ Just tell me what flowers to bring, and I’ll go get them for you. _

Shion nodded, looking at the pictures. They were simple, asymmetrical arrangements. He’d seen their like in the temple, wherever a statue of Buddha could be found.

_ There should be three layers in a good Ikebana arrangement,  _ the book read.  _ The top addresses the sky, the middle man, and the lowest Earth. The arrangement should not be symmetrical, and angles should be utilized. _

Shion hummed, skimming through the pages. Jun read over his shoulder, seeming just as interested.

_ I’ve never done ikebana before,  _ he wrote.  _ But it seems good. _

Shion nodded. “I’m not sure where to start. Why don’t you bring me whatever looks good.”

Jun nodded dutifully and ran off.

Shion smiled. This could be fun. He could be useful, and it wouldn’t require too much movement.

Jun came back with some red and some purple flowers, as well as some bent and interesting sticks and a few large leaves.

“Thank you,” Shion said. Jun bowed and went back to work.

This could be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, Master Bankei was teaching at a temple. A large crowd had gathered around him, which made a monk of another sect jealous. He ran to the front of the temple where Master Bankei stood and proclaimed, “My master is able to perform great miracles. He can stand across large distances with a brush, and when he writes the name of the Amida Buddha in the air, it can appear on a paper hundreds of yards away! Can you do the same?”  
> Master Bankei nodded solemnly. “Perhaps this is true. But it’s not the way of Zen. My miracles are that when I’m hungry I eat, and when I’m thirsty I drink.”


	6. Burning the Buddha

It took about two weeks for Shion to get used to the schedule and rituals, and about two weeks to learn the sign language alphabet to fluency. Nezumi was refusing to write anything down anymore, insisting on spelling out everything he wanted to say. It was annoying, but it did help Shion’s skills improve dramatically.

The movement in his right hand had not entirely come back. His grip was slack, and his fingers weak. He feared the day he wouldn’t be able to move it at all ever again. He now used his left hand for almost everything, and they had given him special chopsticks designed for small children, which connected at the top. That was a bit embarrassing, but necessary if he wanted to feed himself. He was also learning other words in monastic sign language, and that definitely helped him communicate.

The sign for nirvana was beautiful. The sign represented non-attachment, and that showed in the way it was formed. He was getting personalized Dharma talks from the silent monks, who signed everything to him.

“Zazen  _ is  _ enlightenment,” the female monk signed in one of these private discussions. “To, sit, to stay, that is all there is. That is all there needs to be. That is becoming a Buddha.”

Shion watched in wonder, absolutely fascinated by the language. His new language. Everything was still mostly spelled, but with occasional words thrown in for clarity. The monks insisted on signing to him rather than writing. Just like Nezumi.

“When you feel pain, that is attachment. That is dukkha. Understand?”

“I understand.” Shion nodded.

“Good. Learn these new words by tomorrow.” She gave him a set of twenty words to memorize. It was hard work, but it was paying off. There was something much better about signing than writing. Something more personal and musical.

She wheeled him out of the room, where Nezumi was waiting. They were always scheduled for their practice discussions one after the other so that Nezumi could help Shion get where he needed to go.

“My turn,” Nezumi signed.

“Your turn,” Shion signed back. Nezumi walked into the classroom. His practice discussions never took very long. Only about fifteen minutes. Shion had no idea what they talked about in there. It was supposed to be very private.

Fifteen minutes later, Nezumi walked out, white as a sheet.

“What happened?” Shion asked.

Painstakingly, Nezumi spelled out the word, “Ordination.”

“They want you to be ordained?!” Shion asked, disbelieving.

Nezumi nodded, still pale.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Shion asked.

Nezumi nodded again.

“When?”

Nezumi shrugged.

“Soon?”

Nezumi nodded.

“Wow.” Shion nodded, impressed. “So… what does that mean? Why do you look so scared?”

Nezumi looked down at Shion with a strange look in his eye before taking the handles of his wheelchair and wheeling him out of the building.

“Where are we going?” Shion asked, a little annoyed at being taken somewhere mysterious against his will.

Nezumi didn’t answer. He just kept walking, out of the monastery, down the street, and off towards the forest. When they got to the edge of the woods, Nezumi held out his hand to help Shion up. He stood shakily, and Nezumi set him against a tree before hiding the wheelchair in the bushes. He took Shion’s hand and led him into the forest, walking slowly so as not to cause Shion to collapse.

“Where are we going?” Shion asked again. “We’re supposed to be working.”

They emerged in a field by a blue pool in the river. Nezumi let go of Shion’s hand and stripped naked before running forwards into the water with a great splash.

Shion just stood there, shocked. He supposed he  _ shouldn’t  _ be shocked anymore, as this was the kind of thing Nezumi seemed to do nowadays, but nonetheless, shocked he was.

“Your turn!” Nezumi signed.

Shion shook his head.

“Please?” Nezumi signed.

Shion figured he wouldn’t be so polite if he didn’t have such a limited vocabulary. “No!” Shion shouted.

“For me?” Nezumi signed, looking at Shion pleadingly. There was something in his expression that was unusual.

Shion sighed. He figured it couldn’t hurt. After all, the day was hot and when did they ever get an opportunity to sneak away and do something fun? Hesitantly, he stripped out of his clothes.

Nezumi beamed.

Shion stepped slowly into the water, trying to get used to the sudden shock of cold. Nezumi swam forwards and pulled him in by the ankles.

The second Shion reappeared after being submerged, Nezumi was kissing him heavily, lips tracing along his jaw and to his ears, hands wandering over Shion’s abdomen. He was saying things Shion couldn’t hear, but desperately wanted to as he came to terms with what was happening.

“Nezu-mpf,” Shion tried to say, but was blocked by a kiss.

“Reach nirvana with me,” Nezumi signed.

Shion blushed, and allowed Nezumi’s hands to travel down his waist to his hips. He gasped and bit his lip on a moan as Nezumi palmed him under the water.

Maybe it was the lack of sound, but Shion’s sense of touch felt heightened in that moment as Nezumi stroked him gently, kissing his neck. It was all so overwhelming, Shion forgot to reciprocate. He just squirmed where he stood in the river, moaning sounds he couldn’t hear into the hot summer air. His skin felt electrified, like he might give off a static shock to anyone who touched him. Nezumi didn’t seem to mind or notice. He rolled their hips together, almost knocking them over if Shion hadn’t grabbed onto a nearby boulder, holding them up.

Interesting, he felt strong in the water. With gravity reduced, he could move and touch with native fluency, something he hadn’t had in a long while. That’s when he remembered to touch Nezumi back, and wrapped his left, good hand around both their cocks.

Nezumi’s expression in response to that was beautiful. Better than watching him masturbate, this was personal. It was a shared experience.

They rocked against each other, seeking pleasure in each other’s arms, fulfilled by each other’s bodies. If anything could be described as religious, it was the way Shion felt in that moment. Spiritual. Gripped by a fervor that wouldn’t let him go, that possessed his brain and took over his body.

Their lips barely brushed together as they gasped from intoxication. Closer and closer to the edge they rode, holding onto each other tightly, as if the other might suddenly decide to run away.

It was too much. Shion couldn’t handle it. His entire being might explode from the sensations he was experiencing. Too much- too much-

He came with a silent cry, and Nezumi followed him over the edge moments later.

His entire body relaxed, he felt like he was floating. “Oh my god,” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against Nezumi’s shoulder. “It’s been forever since I’ve had an orgasm, that place has no privacy.” He wrapped his arms around Nezumi’s waist, sleepy with hormones.

Nezumi hugged him back, rubbing his back up and down. They stood like that for a long moment before Shion realized they needed to head back.

“We should go.” He pulled away. “It’s work time, we can’t just stay out here.”

Nezumi nodded, and walked over to the edge of the rock face that bordered the blue pool. He pushed himself out and shook himself like a dog.

Shion watched him fondly, then thought of something. “What was this all about, anyway?”

Nezumi looked back at him and shrugged.

“No, don’t just shrug at me. You walked out of your practice discussion completely pale and then took me out here. What did they tell you?”

Nezumi hesitated, then spelled the word “Ordination.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re going to- oh.” It hit him. “Are you taking a vow of chastity?”

Nezumi nodded.

“Why? I thought you didn’t have to.”

Slowly, Nezumi spelled, “They want me to.”

“For how long?”

Nezumi shrugged, spelling, “Long time.”

Shion understood what he meant. A long time. Longer than Shion would probably live. It was the beginning and end of their sexual relationship. He pulled himself out of the pool and tried to swipe some of the water off his body with his hands before putting back on his uniform. “I see why you looked so scared.”

Nezumi shrugged again.

Once clothed, they stood staring at each other for a moment, absorbing the gravity of their situation.

“Let’s head back,” Shion said softly.

Nezumi nodded, taking Shion’s hand to steady him as they walked through the forest back to where his wheelchair was hidden.

Nezumi wheeled him into the monastery and back to the garden, where the other boys were working. He dropped Shion off by the table where he made flower arrangements, and went to work pulling weeds.

The other boys didn’t even seem to notice they’d been gone, let alone their wet hair. Or if they did, they didn’t let on. They just continued to work in silence.

Eventually, the work day was over and it was time for dinner. They ate in silence, so Shion didn’t have the opportunity to tell someone when something went horribly wrong.

He blinked. He only blinked, and when he opened his eyes his world tunneled around him. There was a large black spot in the middle of his field of vision right in front of his left eye, and no matter where he moved his eyes, the spot followed. It was almost like a patch of pixels had gone dark on a computer screen, only the screen was reality and Shion was horrified.

His heart pounded in his throat as he considered the implications of this. He might go blind. He might go completely blind and then what did he have left? Two of his most important senses would be gone. How would he communicate? Racking his brain, he couldn’t fathom a way that anyone would be able to talk to him. No more writing, no more signing, just blackness and silence and a world of void.

Void. Void. Out of the blue, a dharma discussion point came to the forefront of his mind.

_ Everything is transient in the void. All is void. There is nothing but what the ego projects. And everything changes, so pay attention. _

Was he suffering because of attachment to transient things? His vision, his hearing, his movement, maybe it was all a projection of the mind on to the void. Maybe he should learn to release this attachment. Nirvana, the sign came to mind. Releasing attachment.

He smiled, and in that moment he understood.

When Nezumi wheeled him out of the dining hall, he seemed to notice something was different.

“You okay?” He signed, and Shion squinted around the black spot to understand.

“I experienced satori.” He smiled. Momentary enlightenment. It had come to him.

“How?” Nezumi asked, meaning what brought it on? But his vocabulary was limited.

Shion could feel his voice shaking, even if he couldn’t hear it. “I’m losing my vision.”

The look of shock on Nezumi’s face was apparent, even around Shion’s muddled eyesight. “What?” he signed.

“It’s okay. If all is void, what need is there to see? To hear? It’s all an illusion created by the mind, and my body deteriorating has shown me that.”

“But-” Nezumi began.

“But I’m finally beginning to understand,” Shion interrupted him. “I’m fine. I’ll speak with the monks tomorrow.”

“What happened?” Nezumi signed.

“There’s now a black spot over my vision. I can’t really see out of my left eye. I’m sure the right will go soon too.” He pressed his hands into gassho and bowed. “Thank you for your concern.”

Nezumi just stared at him quietly for a long time.

“It’s time to go to zazen, Nezumi,” Shion informed him. “Could you please push my chair?”

Nezumi swallowed, looking away, and nodded.

Shion meditated sitting in his chair now. Whenever he tried to get down on the floor, it always took him at least five minutes to be able to stand again. It was better this way. At first he thought it wasn’t as good, but now he realized there was no other way. He was satisfied.

Meditation was taking less and less effort. Thirty five minutes at a time felt doable. Still not comfortable, but doable.

Today, however, it felt absolutely wonderful. He sat in waves of peace and contentment, staring blankly at the wall thinking of nothing. Because what better things did he have to do? Nothing could be more important than this. Nothing more worth his time. He sat happily, feeling connected to the very core of his deteriorating body, knowing there was no soul staring out through his eyes, only his own brain. Only his own damaged brain creating a sense of self, his ego. Really, there was no difference between the atoms of his body and the atoms of the air around him. Only what scarcely differed from isotopes of hydrogen. He was mostly void, empty space. The universe was mostly empty space. And what actually had matter was only a perception of his brain, which clearly was so changeable and easily damaged. What was reality?

“I’ve heard the universe is one bright pearl,” the student said to the master. “How can I understand it?”

“The universe is one bright pearl,” said the master. “What need is there to understand it?”

Shion breathed slowly, and put in no effort. No mind, no soul, no self, no effort.

Nezumi touched his leg and zazen was over. He continued to meditate as they all prostrated themselves. He meditated as they chanted without him. He meditated as they prostrated themselves again.

Bowing to the Buddha, who represented themselves. Bowing to each other. Bowing to the Buddha because they couldn’t bow to themselves. The Shakyamuni Buddha was long dead, he didn’t care if they bowed to his statue. But bow they did because it represented so much more. The enlightenment they could all experience. The Buddha nature they all had inside. Everyone is a Buddha waiting to be awakened.

Shion felt awake.

He continued his mindfulness as he was wheeled to the bathrooms to brush his teeth, then to the dorms for bed. He sat by himself, facing the middle of the room as the rest of the boys jumped around and played. As they chatted and enjoyed each other’s company. Shion was with them. They were the same as himself, no different.

“Why is my hand so much like the Buddha’s hand?” the teacher asks.

The student shakes the hand.

We’re all the same, and spreading metta (loving-kindness) to oneself is the same as spreading it to others. It starts at home. Home is the Earth. Home is the Universe. Home is everything, and everything is void.

Shion felt this on its deepest level, and smiled as another black spot appeared in front of his left eye. Good. He was becoming one with the void. One with emptiness.

Nezumi helped him into bed and sat down next to him. He took Shion’s hand and held it tightly. That was enough. They didn’t need to communicate further than that.

When one of the Doan Ryo came through to turn out the lights, Shion welcomed the blackness. He welcomed falling asleep not knowing what the state of his body would be in the morning. Not knowing if he’d ever wake up.

It was fine. He was content. He was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, the temple where Master Dan Xia practiced was hit by a great snowstorm. Slowly, the monks began to run out of fuel until they could no longer even cook their food or keep warm. Huddled together shivering in the zendo, they didn’t know what to do.  
> Then, Master Dan Xia took the wooden statues of the Buddha and tossed them in the fireplace.  
> “What are you doing?!” the students cried. “You’re burning our holy artifacts! You’re insulting the Buddha!”  
> Master Dan Xia turned around sternly. “Are these statues alive? Do they have Buddha nature?”  
> “Well, of course not,” said a student. “They are only wood.”  
> “Exactly. And in an emergency, it’s okay to burn them. Now pass me another piece of firewood, I’m getting cold.”  
> The student passed him another statue.”  
> Once the storm had passed, Master Dan Xia went to the market and bought new statues. He set them in the place of the old and bowed before them.  
> “Are you prostrating yourself before firewood?” a student asked.  
> “No,” replied Master Dan Xia. “I’m venerating the Shakyamuni Buddha and treating these as holy artifacts.”


	7. Blow out the candle

As Shion’s vision faded, he sewed his rakusu in preparation for his lay ordination. By the time he’d completed the final stitch and whispered the chant to himself, his vision was gone. Altogether, he’d been at the monastery for three months. He was no longer able to get up from his wheelchair at all, his legs had deadened to the point of uselessness. He was still able to feed himself, but only barely. Soon, he’d need help with even that.

Yet, as his body shut down, his mind opened up. He was able to see things clearly in the darkness that surrounded him, and he felt happy.

He could no longer do the flower arrangements for the shrines, so instead he sat zazen for hours each day, enjoying the stillness and peace.

The silent monks still communicated with him, using tactile sign language. They put their hands under his and let him feel the signs they were using. It was the only time Shion had any real human contact, and he appreciated it.

“When you close your fist, you crush the butterfly.” The monks signed to him. His comprehension was getting better. “When you extend your finger, it crawls along. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Shion said smiling. He couldn’t sign back, so he still spoke. Luckily, he hadn’t lost his voice. “I shouldn’t get attached.”

“Should is a strong word. Should, could, would, all words you don’t need. There is only do and not do.”

“Yes, I think that’s right.” Shion nodded.

“You must let the butterfly go free in order for it to survive. If you keep it locked away, it will wither and die.”

“Roshi, I have to say. I feel no attachment to my body, and yet I suffer. My legs cramp and pain me, I can barely feed myself, and that’s humiliating. I need help in every aspect of my life, though I feel no attachment to my physical self. What do I do?”

The monk paused. “When you stare into the stream and see your own reflection, you do not reach out and touch your face. The water is still permeable. Do not be fooled.”

Shion considered that. “So I’m in my own way?”

“You can’t dodge a reflection.”

“My ego is standing in the way of my happiness. I need to let go of the image I have of myself. My need to be independent, that’s blocking my path.” Guilt rose in his throat. “But… I know I’m a burden to Nezumi. He has to do everything for me. Can I sacrifice his happiness for mine?”

“Is that the truth?”

“I think so.”

“Perhaps you’re giving him opportunity for dana paramita.” The perfection of giving selflessly.

“You think he’s enriched by helping me?”

“Maybe not.”

“So what do I do?”

“What can you do?”

Shion thought about it. “Nothing. There’s nothing I can do.”

The monk tapped on his leg. Their signal for bowing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shion bowed. “Thank you for your wisdom.”

The monk rolled him back into the zendo to sit. There was only one more hour before the rest of the people would come in for lunch. Today was a special day. Nezumi was getting ordained. In place of the regular dharma talk, there was to be a Shukke Tokudo, or ordination ceremony. It was very exciting. Shion was happy for him. He was finally getting where he wanted to go.

When Shion had done his lay ordination, it had been a big deal. This was even bigger. Nezumi would shave his head, don the robes of a priest, and go into full residency at the monastery. He would lead services, give dharma talks, and conduct practice discussions. Plus, he would be starting his vow of celibacy. That was a good thing. He would learn self-restraint, discipline, and even change his thought patterns. Ultimately, it was a good thing. Still, Shion felt a little sad.

Shion jumped a few minutes later when a hand tapped his shoulder.

“Nezumi,” Nezumi spelled, letting Shion know who he was. “Come with me.”

“Where?” Shion asked. Why was Nezumi in the zendo? He was supposed to be working in the kitchens.

“Dorms.” Without waiting for Shion’s consent, he rolled him out of the zendo and out onto the bumpier surface of the boardwalk. From there, the surface bumped and changed to smooth, letting Shion know he was in the dorm. Nezumi helped him into bed carefully, guiding him so he was sitting on the edge.

“Have sex with me,” Nezumi signed.

“You’re about to be a priest,” Shion reminded him.

“Exactly.”

“Anyone could walk in,” Shion pointed out.

“I don’t care.” His words were quick and desperate. If Shion could see his face, he figured he’d be pleading.

“You know, nothing changes after you become a priest. It’s just as harmful now as it will be in a few hours. It’s only an illusion, the dressing and the vows. Only part of the materialism.”

“Zen bullshit.”

“You can’t say that, you’re a Zen priest.”

“Zen is a finger pointing at the moon, but my fingers are doing something else.” He ran his fingers down Shion’s chest to the hem of his pants.

“You’re awfully blashphemous today.”

“Shut me up.” Nezumi kissed him, pushing him back into the bed. He lay on top of Shion, mouthing along his jaw and untying his gi.

Shion gave in, letting himself be touched and caressed all over. It felt good. Like he was still attractive, even in the state he was in. Still, knowing it was only feeding his ego, Shion figured it wouldn’t be too hard to take a vow of chastity when Nezumi did. That’s what he’d be doing, after all. Since he couldn’t really mastubate anymore with his hands in the condition they were. Besides, the only place to do so was in the bathroom stalls, and that was a little unseemly. Maybe this was the last orgasm he’d ever have. He should take his time and enjoy himself.

“I’m yours, Bhante,” Shion said, smiling. It meant venerable one, a term used for monks.

Nezumi pulled back until only the pressure of his legs sitting on top of Shion’s could be felt. He reached down and signed into Shion’s hands. “That was hot.”

Shion grinned. “You like that I’m just one of your sangha? Not even a member of the Doan Ryo. Just your humble student, Bhante.”

“I’ll strike you with my stick.”

“Like a true Zen master.”

Nezumi leaned back down, kissing Shion with a fervor. He stripped off both their gis, grinding his hips down against Shion’s.

In complete blackness and silence, every touch was a surprise. Shion gasped and moaned as Nezumi travelled down his abdomen and mouthed him over his underwear.

Sex is holy. Not sacred, holy. The mouth and the tongue and the cock are spiritual and wonderful. The way two people can touch each other- that’s enlightenment. It’s a meditation on no thought- just sensation. Elation. Euphoria. A bond of no-soul between two physical forms at one with each other at last. Finally, and for the last time, knowing they’d never touch this way again, it was unique and special and amazing. They felt and touched and stroked and sucked, giving their bodies to each other in dana paramita.

_ Om…  _ the tip of the cock and the build of the arousal.

_ Om…  _ the stroke of the hand and the curl of the toes.

_ Om…  _ the wet of the tongue and the pressure of the mouth.

_ Om… Om… Om… _

Shion’s chest rose and fell with heavy breath as the first embers of orgasm drove his thoughts from his mind.  _ No mind, no thought.  _ He reached down to grasp at Nezumi’s hair, feeling the movement of his head as he sucked Shion’s cock with expert precision.

Everything was dark and quiet, but still sparks erupted behind Shion’s eyes and there was a ringing in his ears and the Earth sprung back to life as he came down the throat of the soon-to-be-priest he was so in love with.

They kissed and caressed each other before Shion moved to return the favor, feeling out Nezumi’s body like a roadmap.

And giving back was different. It was the Brahma-viharas, the four immeasurables, the sublime attitudes, metta, karuna, mudita, and upekkha.

He kept one of his hands on Nezumi’s stomach to feel the tensing and breath. This way, he read through his fingers what he was missing with his eyes and ears.

Beauty. Absolute beauty under his fingers and in his mouth. How could one deem it meritorious to give this up? This love, this act of maha virya paramita. Great perfection of vigor.

Shion found satori as Nezumi came. One moment of perfect enlightenment.

“Sex is enlightenment,” he said. “Sex is holy.”

“Not attaching even to what is holy is nirvana,” Nezumi replied. “I’m going to keep my vow.”

Shion nodded and bowed. “I understand.”

“I love you,” Nezumi signed.

“I love you too.” Shion smiled.

“I’ll take you back to zazen.” He helped Shion redress and straighten himself up before getting into the wheelchair and heading for the zendo.

There was only fifteen more minutes before lunch, followed by zazen and what usually was a dharma talk. Instead, Nezumi would get ordained. Time flew by so fast Shion couldn’t keep up. Lunch came and went, zazen lasted for such a short time, and soon he felt the floor move with people standing and setting up the zendo for the ceremony. Someone moved his chair to a new location and deposited him there without a word. Shion felt a bit like an object being unceremoniously dumped.

The smell of incense, and the ceremony began. Shion wished he could see what was happening. It was a long ceremony, lasting roughly and hour before Nezumi knelt before Shion and brought his hands to feel his shaved head.

“Oh wow.” Shion marvelled.

Nezumi moved Shion’s hands to feel his robes, which would be black with white underneath for a novice priest.

“You did it. You’re a priest now.”

“Yes,” Nezumi signed. “Finally.”

Shion privately wondered if that meant he would be leaving the dorms. It probably did mean that. He was going to be alone. Maybe that’s another reason Nezumi had been so scared when the monks told him.

“I have to go. See you later.” Nezumi patted Shion’s leg and was gone.

Shion sat in silence and in blackness for a long time before someone else came up to him.

A hand appeared in his and awkwardly spelled the name “Jun.”

“Hi, Jun.” Shion smiled. He liked Jun.

“Seigan went to dorms,” he spelled slowly.

“Who’s Seigan?” Shion asked.

“Nezumi’s new name.”

“Oh.” Shion should have realized that. When a priest is ordained, they get a new Dharma name. They would be required to use that name from now on. Strange. “Why is he at the dorms?”

“Moving.”

Right. So he would be moving in with the other resident priests. Shion nodded. “Are you going back to work, Jun?”

“Soon. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Shion lied.

“Precepts,” Jun spelled.

Shion had to think for a minute before he understood what Jun was trying to say. “Right. Don’t lie. I’m a bit worried.”

“I’m here.”

“Thank you.” Shion swallowed roughly. “I hope I can manage without him.”

“We’re here.”

Shion tried to smile. Would the other boys really take up Nezumi’s slack now that Shion was alone? He felt a bit like he had when he’d first arrived at Mahabhakti. Isolated.

“Work now,” Jun spelled.

“Okay. Would you put me back in my place, Jun?” Shion asked.

“Yes.” Jun wheeled him to his usual corner and put his hand on Shion’s shoulder. “Friends,” he spelled.

“Friends,” Shion repeated before he felt Jun walk away.

Shion put his shaky hands in the cosmic mudra and went back to meditating. It seemed that was all he did nowadays. Meditate. His mind was all he had left as his body rebelled. On his deathbed, he would meditate. With his final breath, he would sigh the Om. That day was getting nearer. A cold wind shook him.

A little under three hours until it was time for dinner. That amount of time spent meditating was nothing to Shion anymore. It felt like the blink of an eye. He was reminded of Bodhidharma, who spent nine years facing the wall. Now, that story didn’t seem so absurd. Shion would spend the rest of his life facing the wall. However short a time that was.

Dinner came and went, more zazen, the service, and then it was bedtime. Jun, not Nezumi rolled him back to the dorms. Jun helped him into bed. Jun spelled the word “goodnight” into Shion’s hand, and patted him on the shoulder.

At night, that’s when Shion felt truly miserable. As he waited to fall asleep in the darkness that was no different from the darkness of day, he bemoaned his state.

_ In the light there is darkness, but don’t see it as darkness. In the dark there is light, but don’t see it as light. _

Shion couldn’t see the light as he struggled to fall asleep. His violet eyes were permanently closed these days, it made no difference.

He was dying, and death is suffering. Attachment to life makes it so. How could he hack into his brain and change the evolutionary imperative to cling to life? Was meditation enough? Was anything enough? Would he become a Buddha before he died? He didn’t know, and the lack of knowing was terrifying.

He swallowed, and swallowed again, struggling to make the muscles of his throat do the proper thing. Was he just too upset, or were the muscles of his throat weakening? He didn’t know that either.

He’d had moments of satori, but no true, lasting enlightenment. Was it even possible? Was the venture futile?

Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he fell asleep, cursing his body and whatever had caused this illness.

He awoke to the tapping of a hand on his shoulder.

“Jun,” Jun spelled. He helped Shion sit up and get into his wheelchair. “Doctor here,” he spelled.

“A doctor?” Shion asked. “For me?”

“Yes. Visit during soji.”

“Okay.” Shion nodded, a bit confused. “I thought the doctors here couldn’t help me.”

“New doctor.”

“A new doctor?” Shion asked incredulously. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Don’t know.”

They went to the showers, and Shion was still confused. They went to zazen, and he was beginning to think Jun might be wrong. Why would a new doctor come all the way out to this place? It didn’t make sense. It was a week and a half by horseback, and Shion was pretty sure no doctor would make that journey.

And yet, during soji, Nezumi came by to interpret for Shion’s doctor’s appointment.

“How are you?” Nezumi asked as they waited on the doctor in the infirmary.

“I’m… managing,” Shion said carefully. “Your name is Seigan now.”

“Yes. That’s my Dharma name.”

“Should I call you that?” Shion felt a little weird about it.

“I don’t care.”

“What does it mean?” Shion asked.

“Vow.”

“Vow? Like your vow of chastity?”

“I suppose. The doctor is here.”

A new hand reached out to touch Shion’s shoulder.

Nezumi signed, “He says he’s here to figure out the cause of your illness. He wants to draw your blood.”

“Oh. Okay.” Shion nodded.

“He can’t promise to cure you, but he hopes to do research to maybe cure others.”

Shion nodded. “I understand.”

“He has a needle. Hold out your arm.”

Shion did as he was told. There was a slight pinch, and a few moments later the whole thing was over.

“That’s all for today.”

“Okay. Thank you Doctor.”

“He says thank you too.”

The doctor put his hand on Shion’s shoulder once more, and was gone.

“I’ll take you back to zazen.”

“Okay. I hope he can figure something out.”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, the student was asking the master many questions. He couldn’t seem to stop, he just kept asking and asking. Finally, realizing it was night, the student apologized for keeping the master so late.  
> The master lit a candle for the student to guide his way home, but just as the student was about to exit the room, the master blew the candle out.  
> The student stared in shock, watching the smoke rise from the blackened wick of the candle. Then, he experienced satori.  
> “What have you attained?” the teacher asked.  
> “From now on, I will not doubt the teacher’s words,” the student replied.


	8. How sweet

It was three weeks before Shion heard from the doctor again. In that time, his ability to move his hands had declined dramatically. He was no longer able to feed or bathe himself. Jun volunteered to help at mealtimes, since Nezumi ate with the other priests now. It was humiliating. At least Nezumi could still help him in the shower. That was some small comfort.

He was also noticing difficulty speaking and swallowing. His tongue and throat were losing their function. It was the beginning of the end, and Shion knew deep in his bones that any day could be his last.

He visited the doctor during the workday, when Nezumi was free to help interpret.

“He’s looked over your medical history, and identified the chemical causing the illness.” Nezumi signed.

“Really?” Shion asked, hopeful. “What is it?”

“Um…” Nezumi had to spell many of the words. “A degenerative neurotoxin that’s attacking your myelin sheaths. It came from the wasp.”

It was like a drum had been beaten right next to Shion’s ears, his heart was nearly audible even through his deafness. “The wasp?  _ The  _ wasp?”

“Yes.”

“But… it’s been almost four years. Why now?”

“He doesn’t know.”

Shion swallowed with difficulty. “What…” he cleared his throat. “What can I expect? What’s the prognosis?”

There was a pause, and Nezumi let go of his hands. Shion could feel him stomp across the room on the creaky floors. It was a long moment before he came back. His hands shook as he signed. “Seizures, coma, and death.”

Yes. That’s about what Shion expected to hear. What he didn’t expect was his reaction to it. He smiled. “Thank you, doctor. Please use the information you’ve gathered from me to help anyone else in need. I’d like to go back to zazen now.”

Death was coming, death comes to all. Shion could accept that his life was going to be shorter than most. He was nineteen. It was better than nothing.

The warm air outside felt amazing. The cool breeze, the thickness of the humidity, it was all nice. It smelled like flowers. And once inside, that was nice too. The air was cooler, and everything smelled like incense.

“I’m going to sit with you,” Nezumi signed.

“Okay. That sounds nice.” Shion was usually alone during zazen at these times. Everyone else was working jobs he couldn’t do.

Nezumi must have sat in a chair instead of on the floor, because he put his hand in Shion’s lap. Shion moved his hand to cover Nezumi’s, and there they sat. Together.

Shion’s mind was clear. He was happy. He understood the purpose of death, the utility, the necessity. What’s nineteen years or a hundred? It matters the quality, not the quantity. Shion had led a good life. Sure, there had been suffering, but to live is to suffer. As he sat, realization came to him. Rebirth happens every second. You change from one breath to the next, the impulses of the mind constantly form the brain tissue, and the mind is the self, so the self is always changing. That is to say, there is no self. Only a collection of stuff like any other collection of stuff, part of the larger meta of the world, which was a part of the universe- one bright pearl. Shion felt no need to understand it, yet he did. Self-referentially, he thought of the universe as he watched it go by through blind eyes. Listened to the sounds through deaf ears. Danced in the madness on lame feet. This was true enlightenment. Satori from moment to moment, he felt sighted again. Hearing again. Mobile again.

To sit is to be enlightened, and Shion was constantly sitting. Shikantaza, just sitting.

What a perfect decision to come to the monastery.

From moment to moment, Shion enjoyed the sit. He felt his mind spiral into nothingness, and realized the absurdity of names. Naming things. It was strange, wasn’t it? To differentiate. There was no difference. Language is abstract and absurd. Just a human construct of the ever-changing mind, trying to come up with some form to the void. He felt himself splinter into the air around himself, and suddenly it didn’t seem so strange that he couldn’t move his body. What was a body to move? He was experiencing total ego-death, and he neither enjoyed nor abhorred it. It simply was. He simply wasn’t. It was all so ridiculously meta to try and separate bits of oneself into names. Tree is no more Shion than Shion is Shion. Or house. Or bird. Or light. Everything is everything, and therefore is nothing.

Death is time, and time is death. You die with every new thought and are born again. One lifetime is an infinity of change and birth and death and suffering.

Nirvana. This was nirvana. Escape from samsara, most definitely. Shion no longer wandered the endless world, instead he sat in the light.

To study Zen is to try and walk to the moon. To understand Zen is to bask in the rays.

Nezumi patted his leg and Shion smiled. The sit was over, but the meditation would never end.

Nothing could stop this glorious realization, this perpetual satori, this-

From the base of his spine, electricity contracted his useless muscles. He grimaced, and struggled to breathe. Horrible, the sensation of electric eels crawling all over his skin. He lost control of his body, and his brain fried.

Nezumi’s hands were on him, holding him up. He would have fallen over otherwise.

Shion’s thoughts scattered. He couldn’t speak. He felt his body turn over to the universe.

Then, everything faded away.

He woke up lying in a bed. Oh. So he was still alive. Very good. He smiled as he woke up, feeling a little sore but otherwise normal. Until he tried to move his body and found he could not. Was he now completely paralyzed? Just a mind in a body being run by a skeleton crew of organs? Seemed like it. He tried to speak and found he could not. His mouth wasn’t working.

“Can you move?” hands asked in his.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

“Can you speak?”

No. Nothing left to him. What a cosmic prank. He’d become enlightened and now had no way of sharing what he’d learned. Not that abstract words could do justice to the realization anyway, but he would have liked to have communicated with somebody.

At least he still had his sense of touch.

“Can you understand me?”

To that, Shion desperately wanted to respond yes. What if whoever was speaking to him suddenly stopped? That would be upsetting. If touch was the only thing he had left, he wanted to keep that contact.

“The doctor says you only have hours, if that. That another seizure will come.”

So that had been a seizure? Interesting.

“I love you.”

Oh, so it was Nezumi speaking to him. How nice.

“I’ll keep talking to you until you go.”

Thank you. That means a lot.

“I wish I was better at sign language so I could tell you everything I’m thinking.”

No need. Shion understood.

“I’m taking a vow of silence after you die.”

Shion’s eyes welled up with tears. He was so fortunate to have had Nezumi in his life.

“You’re crying. You do understand me.”

Yes. Yes. If my tears are the thing that lets you know I’m here with you, I will cry and cry and cry.

“Are you sorry to die?”

Yes and no. Death would be an escape from suffering, but I don’t want to hurt you.

“I’m glad you wrote me. I’m glad I got to spend this time with you. You’ll always be in my heart.”

I love you I love you I love you.

“In whatever time we have, I want to know there’s only here and now. Only us. Only this. No other time, no tomorrow, no yesterday, just now. Just us here together.”

Shion knew that to be true.

“Don’t be scared. The end of samsara awaits you.”

I’ve found nirvana. I’m not scared.

“We’re not in the hospital. We’re in the dorm.”

Oh. That was nice.

“I thought you’d want to know that. It’s nice and bright from the sun outside the window, and the birds are singing. It’s a beautiful day.”

Shion could feel the warmth.

“I love you.”

And just at that moment, Shion felt a twitching through his spine.

“Is it time?” Nezumi’s hands shook. Or maybe Shion’s did. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He kissed Shion gently on the lips just before seizure took over. “I’m here. I love you. Goodbye.

Goodbye. I love you too.

Seizure struck full force, running up his body until his mind was completely blank. Like a perfect moment of meditation. He sunk deeper and deeper into zazen as the seizure took him over. He would die meditating. With Nezumi.

Only now. And now. And now. Shion felt the world from moment to moment, and was at peace.

 

******

 

It was over. Nezumi knelt by Shion’s body in shock. How quick it had been. How sudden. He pressed his fingers to Shion’s wrist, half-hoping he’d find a pulse. There was none. Swallowing several times, he stood and ran to the bathroom, feeling sick. He choked and sobbed wordlessly over the toilet until he could cry no more. Shaking violently, he went to the sinks and washed his face. What was he to do?

Oh, right.

He went to the garden and collected flowers, gathering them in a small vase. Then, he went to the kitchen to prepare Shion’s favorite foods.

He didn’t speak to anyone while he was in there. They didn’t question a priest, just continued with their work. Maybe there were one or two side glances, they might have realized what was going on.

Nezumi filled a bowl with tamago gohan and a glass with green tea. He wished he had something more significant to Shion, like cherry cake, but alas.

Carrying the flowers, food, and drink on a tray, he walked to the zendo and offered the items to the Buddha along with incense.

Then, hands in shashu with head bowed, he walked to the great bell by the zendo. He knelt in front of it, taking the hammer in hand. Carefully, he cleared his mind of all thought, and struck the bell.

Forty seconds passed. He struck the bell again.

Another forty seconds, and another strike.

Slowly, a crowd began to form around him, but he ignored them. He just focussed on striking the bell and counting forty.

One hundred and eight times. He sat there in quiet meditation as he struck the bell one hundred and eight times. Everyone gathered in the zendo for the service.

Nezumi stood in front of the statue of the Shakyamuni Buddha and gassho bowed. Carefully, he spread his cloth over the zabuton as one of the Doan Ryo struck the bowl.

Nine prostrations.

He stood as the bowl was struck and stopped.

He took a deep breath and chanted, “Dāihi Shīn Darani.”

The rest of the sangha joined in.

 

“Namu kara tan no tora ya ya namu ori ya boryo ki chi shifu ra ya fuji sato bo ya moko sato bo ya mo ko kya runi kya ya en sa hara ha ei shu tan no ton sha namu shiki ri toi mo ori ya boryo ki chi shifu ra rin to bo na mu no ra kin ji ki ri mo ko ho do sha mi sa bo o to jo shu ben o shu in sa bo sa to no mo bo gya mo ha te cho to ji to en o bo ryo ki ru gya chi kya rya chi i kiri mo ko fuji sa to sa bo sa bo mo ra mo ra mo ki mo ki ri to in ku ryo ku ryo ke mo to ryo to ryo ho ja ya chi mo ko ho ja ya chi to ra to ra chiri ni shifu ra ya sha ro sha ro mo mo ha mo ra ho chi ri yu ki yu ki shi no shi no ora san fura sha ri ha za ha za fura sha ya ku ryo ku ryo mo ra ku ryo ku ryo ki ri sha ro sha ro shi ri shi ri su ryo su ryo fuji ya fuji ya fudo ya fudo ya mi chiri ya nora kin ji chiri shuni no hoya mono somo ko shido ya somo ko moko shido ya somo ko shido yu ki shifu ra ya somo ko nora kin ji somo ko mo ra no ra somo ko shira su omo gya ya somo ko sobo moko shido ya somo ko shaki ra oshi do ya somo ko hodo mogya shido ya somo ko nora kin ji ha gyara ya somo ko mo hori shin gyara ya somo ko namu kara tan no tora ya ya namu ori ya boryo ki chi shifu ra ya somo ko shite do modo ra hodo ya so mo ko”

 

Alone, Nezumi chanted, “May all awakened beings manifest through the three treasures their luminous mirror wisdom. With great awareness we have chanted the Dāihi Shīn Darani of Great Compassion, we dedicate it’s merit to our sangha member Shion, the deceased practitioners of this sangha, the poor, the sick, the hungry, and the oppressed, the unemployed and the destitute, the victims of warfare and natural disaster, and those who remember and care for them, and to the myriad of beings of the three worlds, and to all sentient beings.” He cleared his throat. “Gratefully we offer this virtue to all beings. May they attain Buddha’s way.”

Solemnly, people passed back their chant cards as they continued to chant.

“All Buddhas, ten directions, three times. All honored ones Bodhisattva-mahasattvas. Wisdom beyond wisdom. Maha  Prajña Paramita.”

The bowl was struck, and everyone prostrated themselves nine more times. They stood and gassho bowed to the Buddha, then shashu bowed to the room.

Nezumi took a deep breath. “Minutes ago, Shion passed away. He was a valued member of our sangha, and a dear friend to many, including myself. If anyone has an offering of words, speak now.”

Jun spoke. “In Buddha’s Diamond realm the light of wisdom shines without ceasing. There is no coming, no going; no beginning, no end; no birth and no death. May the Buddhas with infinite compassion illuminate this endless field. For our great abiding friend Shion, and for all those who have passed beyond this life into the tender radiance of the heart of the Buddhas. May he together with all beings realize the end of suffering, and the complete unfolding of Buddha’s Way.” The standard layperson dedication.

Katsuo spoke next. “Shion was a dedicated and meritorious member of our sangha. He sat in zazen for hours and hours every day, something even I struggle to do. I hope he has escaped samsara.”

Another member of the dorm spoke. “He always was smiling. Even when things were hard for him.”

“He was naturally very good at ikebana. I valued his contributions to the temple.”

“I only met him a few times, but each time he left me feeling glad.”

“He will be dearly missed.”

There was silence for a long moment, and Nezumi nodded. “Thank you for your words. One more announcement. As of the end of this service, I will be taking a vow of silence in his honor.”

There was a low murmur around the room.

Nezumi ignored them. “If anyone would like to offer incense, please line up after me to do so. Thank you.” He gassho bowed, and everyone copied him.

Nezumi walked to the altar, where another priest was placing a photo of Shion. Nezumi stared at the image. It was from when Shion had first moved to the monastery. He was smiling, working in the garden. There was only one day in which he’d been able to do that.

Nezumi lit a stick of incense in the candle flame, and raised it in the air slightly. He put it in the designated bowl, and bowed, then turned to leave. The entire sangha was lined up to offer incense. That was a nice gesture. Nezumi almost smiled.

He walked out of the zendo into the foyer and waited as everyone lit their incense and left. He bowed to each person as they exited the zendo.

Karasu Roshi approached him after everyone had exited and was back at work. “Your name suits you, Seigan. Any final words before you enter your vow of silence?”

Nezumi shook his head.

“Very well.” She bowed, and he bowed back. “Thank you for your practice. And for leading the service.”

Nezumi looked away. He needed to call a nurse to help him collect Shion’s body. He wanted to move him in privacy, but that probably wouldn’t be an option. He needed to write a letter to Karan. He needed to plan the funeral. Everything felt so overwhelming, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Oh well. One step at a time. He bowed once more to Karasu Roshi and left for the infirmary. That was the most important thing to get done.

The day outside really was beautiful. The birds sang, the sun shone, and everything seemed especially bright and cheery. He lamented going inside to visit the doctor.

He communicated silently for the nurse to follow him. She nodded, equally silent, and helped him to move Shion’s body back into his wheelchair to bring him to the morgue.

Nezumi touched Shion’s hand one final time, and looked away. He wanted to go sit zazen. He needed that at the moment.

He clasped his hands in shashu, walking slowly to the zendo, and found his seat. Right next to Shion’s usual spot.

No atman. No soul. But still, Nezumi felt Shion was with him as he sat. He cleared his mind, and gazed at the wall. Bodhidharma sat for nine years. Nezumi could sit for a few hours.

_ In the light there is darkness, but don’t see it as darkness. In the dark there is light, but don’t see it as light. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day, a monk was walking along, enjoying the summer day when he heard a growling sound behind him. Shocked, he realized it was a tiger. He ran away as fast as he could, tripping over his robes. He wasn’t quite looking where he was going, and accidentally tumbled off the edge of a cliff!  
> Luckily, he managed to grab onto a vine, and clung there.  
> Unfortunately, down below him there was another tiger, waiting with its jaws wide to swallow him up.  
> To make matters worse, a mouse was chewing on the vine, and at any moment it would snap.  
> That’s when the monk looked to his left and saw a bunch of strawberries growing out of the side of the cliff. He plucked one and put it in his mouth, exclaiming, “Oh how sweet it is!”


End file.
